The Greatest
by jasperose
Summary: Sequel to The End. After the death of their Headmaster, the trio heads out on a seemingly impossible journey to destroy Voldemort. But they must leave behind everything they knew to meet head-on things they'll never understand. HG/CD
1. Prologue

_And so it begins. The first installment of the sequel to 'The End.'_

Disclaimer: if Harry Potter and affiliates were mine, I would move to New Zealand. As it were, I am still living in not New Zealand.

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Prologue  
_Relief Next To Me_

Hermione Granger was not spontaneous. Every move she made was thought through with meticulous care and logistics. Spontaneity was more Cedric's thing, or Ron and Harry's. Like when Harry wanted to go trudging off to the Ministry to 'rescue Sirius:' Hermione had made sure to check all the possibilities before joining him on his hot-headed journey.

Of course she had been right. Voldemort was planting false images in Harry's mind, and Harry and his hero complex had to drop everything and go.

But don't get her wrong; she completely understood why Harry would not even think twice about diving into an exceedingly dangerous situation to potentially save someone close to him. It's just that Hermione would rather think it all through, come at it from all possible angles, and make sure that it was actually achievable.

The Ministry was no easy task. Hermione pushed herself to the limit trying to keep her friends safe. But after getting hit with Dolohov's spell, she was utterly useless. Not to mention a bloody burden for poor Neville to lug about.

Just thinking about how badly the Ministry Rescue went made Hermione cringe. Spontaneity was Harry's thing. It's Ron's thing. Hell, it's Cedric's thing. It just wasn't hers.

So to Hermione, the fact that she just agreed to accompany Harry on his near impossible task of discovering and destroying all remaining Horcruxes and essentially murdering Voldemort without thinking it out logically and sensibly was beyond her.

"You said to us once before," she told him quietly but firmly, "that there was a time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

Ron nodded solemnly. "We're with you whatever happens."

Harry looked at them, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes searchingly beseechingly. Hermione knew that look. The 'But I thought I've to do everything alone' look.

"But mate," Ron continued, "you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

At this, Harry snapped out of his shocked state. "Why?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

How could they have forgotten. Fleur's display of love for Bill in the Hospital Wing was startling and unexpected; everyone saw her as shallow and self-absorbed.

Yet it seemed to come to Harry as a surprise, for it took him a while to respond.

"Yeah, we shouldn't miss that," he replied, his brow furrowed. His hand clamped tightly around something in his pocket, and a look of relieved determination came upon his face. Hermione smiled softly and reached for his other hand, squeezing firmly.

"We're in this together, Harry," she reminded him, her eyes blazing. Harry nodded, meeting her eyes with a question in his eyes.

"I know…not that you lot would let me forget," he grinned. Hermione knew how much it meant to him that they were still there. Too many had left him.

But he wasn't finished. "Hermione," he started, looking to her. The sun glinted off of his glasses, making Hermione squint.

"Yes?" she replied, raising a hand to shield her face from the glare. Harry chuckled and moved to the left, effectively outsmarting the glinting sunlight. Hermione smiled her thanks and looked to him to finish.

"Well…" he looked down. Hermione noticed he looked a little…guilty. "I mean, we'll be gone for a long time. Weeks, months, _years_ even. And…well you and Ced are pretty serious…"

Hermione's heart dropped. Cedric.

"What are you going to do about Ced?" Harry finished, looking down still. Hermione swallowed and followed Harry's eyes to the fascinating grass they sat upon.

"I…I don't know. I hadn't thought about that. I hadn't thought about anything, actually." She took a deep breath. "But it doesn't mean I'm not coming with you, Harry. I'm not going to abandon ship for a boy." She tried to scoff at the very notion, but it got caught in her throat and ended up sounding like a garbled sob.

"He's not just a boy, Hermione," Ron said softly. Hermione raised her head and met his blue eyes, somewhat startled. She could count the number of times he said something nice about Cedric on one hand. They still weren't very fond of one another.

"Ron, I'm not going to stay behind and let you two get into all sorts of trouble so I can be with a boy." She straightened her spine as she spoke, daring him to contradict her.

"Like I said, Hermione," he replied, "Cedric isn't just a boy to you. He's…everything. I remember the night he came back from the graveyard. Or when you were hit with Dolohov's curse. You didn't see him, Hermione. He was going absolutely spare, thinking you were dead. You can't live without him; that much is obvious. Even without the mental rings, anyone could see how much you depend on each other."

Hermione felt a faint blush creep up her pale cheeks. She knew it was obvious; they were with each other almost every waking minute. It's just that when it was laid out like that, she felt like the typical teenage girl falling in love for the first time.

"Alright. So he's not just a boy. He's _the _boy. But you two…you two are my best mates. I'll figure out Cedric later," she told them with conviction, though her chest was suddenly aching. "Killing the Darkest wizard of all time is a bit more pressing, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry and Ron stared at her, Harry shaking his head at her stubbornness.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron allowed, shooting her a small grin. She returned it half-heartedly. Her chest was still aching.

"I guess," Harry sighed. Hermione could tell he still felt guilty for making her choose between Cedric and him. She nudged his knee with her foot.

"Harry," she said, trying to meet his eyes. He stared determinedly at her foot, which was still touching his knee. "Harry," she said, more forcefully. He finally looked up, and his green eyes were pained. "Don't feel so guilty for this. I'm not walking out on you, ever. Bros over hoes," she joked, smiling feebly. Harry tried to fight back a smile to maintain his tortured hero persona, but he failed. His laughter burst forth, shaking his body with its force.

Hermione and Ron joined eagerly, their laughter washing over the bleak grounds like sunlight after a long winter. They laughed until their ribs ached, until tears streamed down their cheeks, until they were hoarse and gasping for breath. They laughed until it felt like they would die, because it was so much easier than facing what lay ahead. They laughed until it felt that if they tried hard enough, they could hold onto this moment forever. Because life had taught them, time and time again, that in a heartbeat, everything you thought you knew could disappear in a flash of green as quickly as it had come.

* * *

_So? Hit or miss? p.s the subtitle is a Tegan and Sara song._

_jaaaaaaaasperrrrrrrrr!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Hello!  
__I'm terribly sorry I took so long to update, but life still equals beyond ridiculous. I am writing this from my mum's laptop computer in the Hospital lobby. Woo. Have any of you ever noticed how creepy hospitals are past midnight? It's eerie. And the custodian kept checking me out. I felt abused and dirty. Anyways, chapter one is officially up. I don't want to do a disclaimer because it depresses me. You all already know I don't own Harry and Company. But oh if I did. Cedric would certainly have a much more prominent role. And he would also be in my basement. Read and review, because it makes me smile. I kid you not. The title is a song by The Veils. Hurrah! _

_brap._

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Chapter One  
_The Leaver's Dance_

"Okay, today's the day," Hermione told Harry and Ron quietly. "I'm going to tell Cedric I'm leaving."

The two boys looked up at her from their place on the floor, sorting through the large pile of books Hermione had brought. Ron's eyes had widened, and Harry looked at her doubtfully.

"Really, Hermione?" He asked, his eyebrows rising. "Because the last four times you've decided 'today's the day,' you've ended up just snogging him. Or 'cuddling.' Or completely avoiding the subject."

Hermione rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. "No, today is the day. I mean, Bill and Fleur's wedding is in three days, and we're leaving right after that. I need to tell him _sometime_; preferably before we're gone."

Ron nodded his agreement. "That would be wise," he replied, grinning. "How do you think he'll take it?"

Harry smiled. "Horribly. Honestly, Ron, how else could he take it? It's _'Mya_.'"

Hermione frowned and nudged Harry's shoulder with her socked foot. "Shut up. I'm bloody nervous. What if he doesn't take it well?" Hermione bit her lip.

Ron sighed. "Hermione, in all honesty, there's no way he's going to let you go without a least getting a word in. But who can blame him? He loves you." He shrugged, as if this answered everything.

Hermione moaned and leaned her head back against the wall. "He's going to be cross with me when I tell him it's better if he stays behind…"

Ron smirked. "I love Cedric in a strop. It's refreshing to see Pretty Boy all flustered." Hermione leaned forward and swatted the back of Ron's head. "Ouch," he complained, rubbing his head. "Whatever, Hermione, you agree."

Hermione cracked a small smile, and Ron raised his hands in victory. "You'll be fine, Hermione," he reassured her, squeezing her knee. Harry nodded.

"Ron's right. Like he said, Cedric loves you. He'll understand." Harry looked so certain that Cedric would react the same way Ginny had. But she and Cedric were so much more than Ginny and Harry had been.

But instead of saying this, she smiled and nodded, closing her book and sliding off the bed onto her feet. "I'm going to go do it now, get it over with. Oh, I'm not looking forward to this…" She walked slowly out of the room, glancing back once in the door frame. Harry waved and grinned and Ron saluted her, saying, "You'll be fine, Hermione. You always are."

Once in the Weasley's living room, she reached into the small pot and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, throwing it into the fire and stating her destination loudly and clearly.

"Diggory Manor."

In a whirl of green flame, Hermione was whisked out of the Weasley's hearth and deposited in Cedric's family's handsome fireplace. She tentatively stepped out of the brick fixture and was greeted by their house elf, Winky, who had been employed by Amos Diggory after the TriWizard Tournament.

"Good afternoon, miss Mya," she squeaked, bowing low. "Is you here for Master Diggory?" She asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Winky, I am. Is Cedric in his bedroom?"

Winky bobbed her head yes, ushering Hermione forward and towards the staircase off to the side. She smiled her thanks and passed the plush, black leather couches arranged comfortable around a thick Persian rug in Cedric's family room.

"Thank you, Winky. You've been a real help," she praised kindly, waving to the elf. Winky grinned proudly and bowed deeply.

"Thank you muchly, miss Mya," she said shrilly. Hermione laughed quietly and put her first foot on the step.

Her heart palpitated rapidly as she made her way up the elegant staircase, her thin hand trailing lightly along the banister. Sentences and paragraphs were forming in her mind as she struggled to calm herself, to think of something to tell him.

Her feet hit the landing much too soon. Sighing quietly, she made her feet move in the direction of his door, which was closed tightly. Shafts of light were visible through the bottom crack of his door. Hermione raised her fist to knock softly on the hard oak, determinedly steadying her hand before he could see.

She heard a creak of a mattress and the rustle of paper before the soft padding of his bare feet coming towards the door made her pulse quicken. The thought of him on his bed may have had something to do with this quickening of her heart beat, but that was beside the point.

The door knob twisted smoothly and the heavy antique door swung open to reveal him in all his grey-eyed, bronze-haired, broad-shouldered glory. The sun shining through his open window behind him silhouetted his tall frame, making him a dark shadow, all angles and tone. His pink lips—kiss me now, please, she thought—pulled up into a smile when he saw who was beckoning.

"Well, hello, beautiful," he grinned, his grey eyes crinkling. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Who?" She responded, glancing over her shoulder. He growled and pulled her into him, wrapping his long arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck.

"You, of course," he murmured, his breath saturating the vulnerable skin on her neck. She sighed and looped her arms around his back, squeezing.

Moving out of this pleasurable embrace was not on Hermione's list of things to do that day, so instead she pressed herself into him further, pushing her face into his cotton-covered chest and inhaling. He always smelled like home to her: spicy; warm; familiar. He sighed contentedly and decided it was time to tease her.

His lips pressed lightly to the hollow behind her ear, knowing what this would do to her. He sucked lightly before trailing little kisses down her neck, onto her collarbone, and back up to her jaw line.

She gasped lightly and tightened her grasp around his body. He grinned, loving the effect he had on her. It greatly inflated his modest ego.

"Cedric…" she warned, though her hands gripping his t-shirt contradicted the tone humorously.

"Hermione..." he teased, smiling into her neck. She scoffed and placed a hand on his chest. Perhaps it was originally an attempt to push him back, but midway through the attempt her hand clenched and she held tighter.

"You," she breathed, "are a dangerous man."

Cedric chuckled, raising his head and meeting her amber eyes. "I know. It's really very impressive. I am rugged."

Hermione laughed and pushed his chest. "Shut up. I actually…I came up here for a reason—other than being teased into incoherency by a prat."

"Incoherency, huh?" Cedric smirked. "I'm improving."

Hermione smiled, but it didn't quite light up her eyes the way it usually did. Cedric cocked his head to the side.

"What is it?" he asked softly, his eyebrows pulling together slightly.

Hermione sighed and looked down at her feet, twisting her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

"Mya?" Cedric urged, worried now. "What is it? What's wrong?" He unwrapped an arm from her waist and touched her chin with his long fingers, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. "Please tell me, I'm getting worried."

Hermione sighed again and slowly met his eyes. "I'm…" She took a deep breath. "I'm going away for a while. With Harry and…and Ron. I—" She stopped talking, her fingers still twisting his shirt.

Cedric gave a small smile. "Is that all? Mya, that's not a big deal. Your parents love Ron and Harry. What are you worried about?"

Hermione took another deep breath and bit her bottom lip. "It's not my parents I'm worried about," she told him softly, turning her face away once more. Cedric's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it again. His head tilted slightly, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

"What are you talking about, Mya?" he asked slowly, dipping his head.

Hermione hugged herself to him, pressing her face to his chest. "I'm going away with Harry and Ron, Cedric," she repeated. Cedric fingered a stray curl absentmindedly as he tried to figure out her words.

"So when you say 'Harry and Ron'," he said slowly, dropping her curl as realization hit, "you mean _only _Harry and Ron." He loosened his grip on her slight frame, creating space between them that would only grow bigger.

Hermione bit her lip again and nodded against his chest. "Cedric, I—it's for the best. It's…I promised." Her words were laced with a quiet plead. A plead for him to understand exactly how much this would hurt her.

"So why don't I come with you?" He suggested, raising his brows and looking down at her. Hermione began twisting her fingers again.

"Cedric, I—it's better if you stay," she whispered. "I…might not…come…back." She lifted her head to meet his gaze, desperate for him to understand, to realize that this was what she _needed_ to do.

Cedric's arms dropped from around her waist. He took a step back and glared incredulously at her. "You might not _come back_?" He hissed, his grey eyes narrowing. "Hermione Jean Granger, what the _hell _are you getting yourself into?"

Hermione let her hands drop to her sides. She looked pleadingly up at his angry face, her fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of her pullover. "Cedric, I made a promise to Harry. He's…he's lost everything. Everyone. I can't…just…I can't just abandon him when he needs me." Her voice was soft and distressed, hitching in odd places.

"So you're telling me that you're going _away _for a while, and that you may not come back, and you want me to _stay behind._" Cedric ran a large hand through his hair in agitation, mussing it up further. Despite the serious tone the conversation had taken on, Hermione still found herself irresistibly drawn to him. She wanted so badly to run her fingers through his hair and kiss his lips and tell him she loved him.

But instead she stood tensely in front of him, her fingers still anxiously fingering her shirt, her teeth still worrying her lip. A wobbly sigh whispered past her lips as she tried to put it all into words.

"Cedric. I don't want to leave you behind. Believe me when I say that. But…I have to. It's the only way. The Order needs you; you're a brilliant wizard. You're too great an asset to lose. Please."

Cedric scoffed, his hand flying to his hair once more. He laughed once without humour at her words. "'Too great an asset'? Hermione, would you listen to what you're saying? Screw the Order, Mya. _You're_ too much to lose!" His hands gripped her shoulders hard, his eyes boring into hers. Hermione stared right back, tears welling in her eyes.

"Cedric, please. This is something I have to do. We need to win this war," she murmured, her soft voice trembling slightly as she spoke. Cedric narrowed his eyes and let go of her slight shoulders.

"No, Mya. What you need to do is stay right here. With me. I need to know you're safe." He was determined to keep her by his side; safe, warm, alive. She was everything.

"Cedric, I can't stay with you and go with Harry all at once. I need to choose," she said forcefully, stepping forward. Her fingers had finally ceased their fiddling and were now clenched into tight balls at her sides.

Cedric took a step back, as if he had been struck. He looked at Hermione as if he had never seen her before, as if she was someone he barely knew. His hands fell to his sides limply, and his brow furrowed in pain.

"Oh. I see where I stand," he replied softly. "Foolish me, thinking you'd choose me over your mates." Hermione gasped, realizing too late how her words sounded.

"No, Cedric, I—"

But he cut her off. "Forget it, Mya. I get it. You don't want me to come with you. That's fine." His voice sounded calm and collected, though Hermione knew it well enough to note the underlying anger and immense hurt from her words. "I suppose you should go, then. You've a bit of packing to do, I would reckon."

"Cedric," she whispered, tears in her voice. Her throat was constricting uncomfortably, and her chest had a dull throb deep inside that beat harshly against her ribs.

He turned his head away, looking anywhere but at her. Hermione saw him bite his lip. He didn't start chewing. She stifled a sob and took a hesitant step forward. Her hands reached out to him, begging for comfort. They came up empty. Cedric took a slow step backwards, turning his head to look, finally look, at her. His eyes were filled with hurt and anger, and Hermione felt a sharp, painful tug in her chest. She dropped her hands back to her sides and opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't," he said roughly. "Don't say a word." His voice was raw, grated, pained. Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. The first tears escaped her closed lids, cascading down her pale cheeks. She could taste the salt on her lips.

With a shaky nod, Hermione turned and walked slowly out of his darkening room, regretting every step. Regretting every word. Regretting every breath.

When she reached his doorway, she hesitantly turned to look at him once more. He had turned to the window, and was glaring out at the mountains visible from his room. The sun was setting quickly, the blood red light spilling into his room and bathing him in its vivid colour. It painted his face a brilliant mask, turning the clear, shimmering tears into drops of deep red trailing down his cheeks. His mouth was tight, lined by brackets containing words he couldn't speak. With a quiet sob, Hermione turned her back on the painted boy before her and quietly closed the door.

In the quiet hallway, Hermione closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands into them, making bright splashes of colour spatter across her eyelids. Taking a deep, shuddery breath, she wiped her cheeks and walked down the hall to the landing, grasping the rail so tightly her knuckles turned white.

The staircase seemed thrice as long as it had on her way up. She staggered down the steps, struggling to regain composure. At long last, her feet hit the even ground. She tried to breathe normally, but her chest ached. The fireplace burned brightly in front of her. She reached a shaky hand into the small pottery jar and pinched a small amount of Floo Powder between her index finger and thumb, throwing it into the fire. She watched as the previously orange fire roared green, then stepped unsteadily into the hearth before stating her destination as clearly as she could. The familiar spinning crush ended quickly, and Hermione eagerly stepped out of the fireplace and onto the Weasley's living room carpet.

Unable to wait any longer, Hermione fell to her knees. They collided heavily with the carpeted floor, followed quickly by her hands, which gripped the thick rug like a lifeline. She dropped her head and the tears trickled down her thin face, leaving behind glinting trails of regret.

Quietly, painfully, she fell to pieces.

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_blah. Review? _

_I'll try my darndest to update regularly, by the by. It will be a challenge, and I'll most likely be up into the wee hours of the morning like this time, but who cares? Not me!_

_Next chapter will be the wedding._

_JASPER!_


	3. Chapter 2

_What? 2 days earlier than planned? That's wild! I know, hurrah. Also, it's longer than usual. Which is good, I reckon. But maybe not. Read on, happy friends._

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Chapter 3.  
_A Perfect Sonnet_

Cedric turned slowly at the click of the closing door, glaring at the thick wood. Angrily he wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand, biting his lip and shutting his eyes. He reached back with one hand to feel for the wall, leaning into his elbow. He let his shoulder blades hit the wall heavily, the rest of his body soon following as he slid down the wall onto the floor, his tears leaving dark splotches on his t-shirt as they fell from his eyes.

He stayed that way for ages. The burning red of the sun had long disappeared behind the mountains, leaving his room in darkness. Cedric didn't mind this; it made it easier. Anything bright and colourful would feel mocking.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, his head lolling back against the wall. Every time he began to dream, it would be about her. Her laugh, her smile, the curve of her spine as he pressed her into him; the smell of her hair, the freckles on her shoulders, the softness of her lips. And every time he was jolted awake as he remembered her words and the meaning behind them.

-

Hermione took a shuddery breath and pulled her knees into her chest. The rug was damp where her tears had fallen and pieces of hair were plastered to the tear tracks down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and dug her toes into the thick carpet, trying to pull herself together.

"—and fetch those three from Ron's room, they've been up there for ages. Dinner will be ready shortly and I need their help— " Mrs Weasley stopped abruptly as she walked into the living room and saw Hermione curled into a protective ball.

"Hermione, dear, whatever is the matter?" she gasped, hurrying to the girl's side and crouching down beside her. Hermione slowly raised her head and tried for a smile. She didn't succeed.

"Oh, dear, come here now, there there," Mrs Weasley murmured, pulling Hermione into a warm embrace. Hermione sighed and tucked her head under Mrs Weasley's chin, wrapping her arms around the older woman's wider waist. A few more tears trickled from her eyes and landed softly on Mrs Weasley's shoulder.

"I'm s-sorry," she muttered, her cheeks flushing. "I-I'm being s-s-silly."

Mrs Weasley didn't say anything; she just held her tighter.

"What was that you were saying, Molly, about those three up in Ron's room?" Mr Weasley's questioning voice came from the kitchen.

"Oh, for…Arthur, please go fetch the boys, I need them to set the table!" She answered back, smoothing Hermione's hair down as she did so. Hermione pulled away, wiping at her tear-stained face quickly.

"Sorry," she muttered again, looking at the floor. "I'll help too." She ran her thin fingers through her thick hair, smoothed her jumper, and took a deep breath.

"No, no, dear, it's fine. You rest, alright?" Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs Weasley placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders and steered her towards the big plush easy chair in the corner by the fireplace. "I'll call you when dinner is ready, if you feel up to it, okay dear?" Mrs Weasley pushed her gently into the chair and stared at her with motherly concern, reaching out to brush a stray tear from her cheek.

"Okay," Hermione reluctantly agreed, picking at her thumbnail. "But, Mrs Weasley, if you need any help at all, please—"

Mrs Weasley frowned at her. "No. You rest. Dinner will be ready shortly."

Hermione sighed and nodded, knowing she wasn't going to win this one. Mrs Weasley smiled gently and walked back to the kitchen, pausing once to glance back at Hermione. The comfortable old chair engulfed her slight frame, making her seem tiny in its embrace. Her cheeks were paler than she was used to, though there were splotchy red patches across her cheekbones. Hermione's lips were chapped, and her eyelashes clung together in peaks. Mrs Weasley sighed quietly before turning to the kitchen, wondering what on earth had upset her so.

-

Cedric remained uninterrupted in his misery, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids, making his head droop and her swim into his tired mind. He groaned aloud, rubbing at his eyes with his fists like a young boy. His bronze hair flopped into his eyes and he didn't bother brushing it back. Instead he lay on his side and let image after image assault his mind as he sunk into a restless sleep filled with her.

A soft prodding in his left side woke Cedric. He sat up quickly, alarmed, propping himself up on his right arm and wiping hastily at his cheeks with his left. When his eyes adjusted to the sudden light, he saw Winky standing concernedly in front of him, a dinner tray in hand.

"Begging your pardons, Master Diggory, but your mother is sayings 'It's time to rouse that boy, I hasn't seens him since breakfast.' So I is here to rouse you, Master Diggory." She stared worriedly at him, her bulbous eyes probing. "Is you being okay, Master Diggory?" She wondered, placing the dinner tray beside his legs and stepping closer.

Cedric yawned, his large hand reaching up to cover his mouth, before answering. His voice was scratchy and thick. "Yes, I'm fine, Winky. Thank you." The elf nodded, though she didn't seem convinced.

"Please, sir, you eats your dinners?" she urged, cocking her head slightly. Cedric sighed and nodded, eyeing the food with distaste. The thought of eating made him feel nauseous.

"Thank you, Winky. You can tell my mum I'm roused before she decides to come up here herself," he told her, his throat rough and obstructed by words he couldn't say.

Winky bobbed her head, her ears flapping wildly. "Of course, Master Diggory, Winky is telling Mistress Clara if you pleases."

Cedric smiled at the elf, though it was forced. "Thank you," he said again, running his hand through his messy hair. "I'll see you later, okay?"

The elf nodded, recognizing the dismissal. She turned and hurried out of the room, sending him one last worried glance before closing the door and leaving Cedric to his thoughts.

And what thoughts they were.

Image after image of Hermione in the two years they'd been together played in his mind, the good and the bad. The good made his chest ache and his eyes prick with tears; the bad made his chest ache, his eyes prick with tears, and his hands to clench into fists. All in all, it really wasn't a healthy situation.

Despite the bright light spilling into his dismal room from the overhead fixture, Cedric still found himself nodding off. He tried to keep his eyes open, not wanting to fall completely into the memories, but it was no use. He succumbed.

_Her skin, so clammy and pale; her eyes closed as if in sleep. He shakes her, trying desperately to wake her. Her pulse is maddeningly slow as it flutters under his fingertips pressed so tightly to her wrist._

_"Mya," he whispers urgently, brushing her hair from her forehead. Her lips are parted, and he can feel the soft whoosh of air as she breathes in and out. "Mya."_

_She doesn't respond. He places a hand over her chest to feel her heart beat, needing more reassurance that his life is still intact. A blazing heat meets his hand and he flinches back, clutching his blistering hand to his chest._

_"Mya!" He cries, more anxious than ever before. She lays motionless beneath his fretful hands, her chest blazing and her skin pale, so pale…_

Cedric jolted awake, pressing his hands hard against his head as if to stop the memories in their tracks. He knew it was no use, but it was worth a try.

-

Hermione was awoken by soft whisperings. She looked around disorientatedly, rubbing at her bleary eyes and stifling a yawn.

"—poor dear, I don't know what the matter is, but she was in quite a state," Mrs Weasley said in her soft motherly voice, reserved for moments of praise and adoration.

"Goodness, I do hope nothing's happened to her family; I haven't heard from them for ages…" Mr Weasley replied, just as quiet. Hermione pushed herself upright in the chair, her spine straightening as she listened in.

"I'm not sure, perhaps Ron and Harry know. They've been hounding me all evening, but I reckoned the poor thing could use some rest," Mrs Weasley responded, turning to glance quickly at Hermione. Noticing she was awake, Mrs Weasley flushed slightly and smiled.

"Hello, dear. Feeling better?" she asked, making her way across the room to crouch down in front of Hermione and place a warm hand on her forehead.

"Yes," Hermione lied, meeting her gaze. "I am, I think I'll just go up to my room, if that's all right?"

Mrs Weasley seemed to want to say more on the matter, but nodded and stood, allowing Hermione to get to her feet. She stood unsteadily, her left foot asleep and her joints stiff from napping in the old chair. She walked slowly past the older woman, smiling tiredly at her and squeezing her hand.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley, really. Thank you," she told her, sincere only for the second part. Mrs Weasley smiled back and patted her hand.

"Of course, Hermione. Please, get some rest."

Hermione slipped quietly out of the room and up the rickety stairs, trying not to make any noise. She wanted a few moments peace before Harry and Ron bombarded her with questions she didn't want to answer.

But of course, as soon as she stepped onto the first landing, Harry and Ron came bounding down the stairs and engulfed her in huge bear hugs.

"Hermione, what the _hell_ happened?" Ron asked quietly after releasing her from his chokehold. Hermione bit her lip and looked at her socked feet. Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

"Come on, Hermione. I have a comfortable bed for you to cry on," Ron told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Hermione snorted, though the sound was garbled with tears threatening to spill.

"Nice, Ron," Harry berated, shoving his shoulder. "You guys go up; I'll get some hot cocoa." Harry squeezed Hermione's hand quickly before speeding down the stairs to the kitchen.

She and Ron kept up the stairs, Ron's arm staying around her shoulders the entire time. Although it reminded her of him, she didn't shrug it off. It felt nice.

Ron kicked his door open and led her to the bed. "Sit," he told her, pointing to the bed. He reached for his wand and summoned a box of tissues, which he placed next to her. She smiled weakly.

"Thanks, Ron," she told him, meeting his concerned gaze. He shrugged and sat down on her other side.

"When Harry gets back, you are telling us everything," he told her. Hermione sighed, knowing this was unavoidable.

"I'm back, the fun can begin," Harry said softly from the doorway. He had three mugs of hot cocoa in his hands, which he passed out to them. Hermione took hers gratefully, glad to have something to do with her hands.

"So let's hear it, Hermione," Ron urged, turning his head to look at her profile. She bit her lip and looked at the ceiling.

"I told him I was leaving," she began, swallowing the lump in her throat, "and he didn't take it well." Her breathing was uneven again, and her eyes burned. She took a huge gulp of hot cocoa to give her an excuse to tear up.

Harry and Ron shared another look. "Hermione," Harry said quietly, "I'm sure it's fine. I mean, it's you and Cedric. You're always fine."

Hermione laughed once without humour. "You didn't see him, Harry. It was like he didn't even recognize me. He…" She trailed off, biting her lip.

Ron put his arm around her shoulder again, and Hermione leaned into him, laying her head on his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and sighed.

"Just give him some time, okay? It is a lot to take in," Harry said, swirling his cocoa around in his ceramic mug.

"Yeah, and the bloke loves you," Ron put in. The way he said it made it sound as if that solved everything. Hermione sighed heavily, wishing it were all that easy.

"Ron, I told him I might not come back. I also told him I didn't want him to come with me, and that I choose you two over him." She spoke it all in a rush, like ripping off a plaster. Her breathing hitched again.

Ron and Harry didn't speak for a moment, both considering her words. Harry broke the silence.

"Well, I suppose you could've worded it better…" he muttered. Hermione nodded, making Ron's head bob up and down as well.

"I know, and I should've. But I just got caught up, and he was making me nervous, kissing me like that when I needed to say something important; and he did that thing he does when he stares into your eyes and makes you feel all warm, and his lips were so soft and his eyes were so intense and his voice was so gentle and genuinely concerned and I couldn't think; I never can when I'm with him, and I buggered it all up and I don't know what to do." Fresh tears came to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She stared down at her hands, which were twisting in her lap, and attempted to control herself for another time that day.

No one spoke for a while after Hermione's rush of words. The darkness outside seemed to seep into the room through the clear window pane, and it made it hard to breathe. Hermione gasped and dug her face into Ron's chest.

"Hermione," he said softly. She nodded to tell him she was listening. "I think you should go speak to him." Hermione looked sharply at him, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline.

"You what?" she asked incredulously.

He smiled at her expression and continued. "I didn't mean _now_; I'm not daft. The bloke is probably throwing a fit." A small smile tugged at his lips as he thought of Cedric in a strop. Hermione swatted his arm draped across her shoulders. "Sorry. But I reckon by tomorrow, he'd be a little less dramatic, and you'd be able to speak properly to him without causing a scene."

Hermione considered this. It was all completely plausible; she and Cedric had never gone more than a day without speaking, with the exception of those two weeks in Fourth year. And Cedric was a logical, rationally-thinking young man; this couldn't last. She smiled.

"You're right, Ron. I'll speak to him tomorrow, and I'll explain to him how important this is, and he'll understand, and it'll be fine." She sighed in relief and wrapped her arms around Ron's waist. "Thank you; you both are quite possibly the best blokes around."

Ron laughed as she pulled away and hugged Harry tightly. He was laughing too. "I'm glad you feel better, Hermione," Harry grinned, hugging her back. "Crying Hermione scares me a bit, to be honest."

"Oh, me too, mate," Ron agreed, nodding. "She's not as frightening as Bloody Aggro Hermione, but in her own way, Crying Hermione is terrifying."

Hermione swatted them both and stood up from the bed. "Sod off. I'm going to bed; want me to take your mugs?" she offered, holding her hands out for their hot cocoa.

"Sure, here. Thanks, Hermione," Ron said, handing her his mug. Harry declined with a shake of his shaggy head, instead fixing her with a probing look.

"You're sure you're alright?" he asked quietly, his green eyes piercing. Hermione gave him a small smile and nodded, patting his knee with her free hand.

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine. Goodnight, you two." She turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She Banished the two mugs to the kitchen and took the steps to the next landing slowly, thinking about Cedric.

She knew she couldn't tell him exactly what they were doing; Dumbledore had specifically told Harry to only divulge that information to her and Ron. She couldn't bring him along, because it'd be bloody hard to keep what they were doing a secret while Cedric traipsed alongside them. And yet, the thought of leaving him for an indefinite amount of time made her chest throb painfully.

She sighed as she reached the door to her and Ginny's room, turning the brass door knob unhurriedly and pushing the rickety door open. Once inside, she ambled over to her familiar bed and lay down on her stomach, placing her chin on her hands and staring out the dark window. The moon was shining absurdly bright, filling the room with unearthly light.

Hermione watched as the moon rose higher in the sky, until it was directly overhead. As sleep tugged at her eyelids and lapped at her consciousness, Hermione reminded herself of one simple thing: Cedric was staring at the same moon.

_Although_, she thought to herself with a smirk, _he looked _much_ fitter doing it._

_-_

Piercing sunlight on his face and a sharp rapping at his door woke Cedric the next day. He groaned as he pushed himself up out of his bed, detangling his long legs from the sheets and rubbing his eyes with his fists. He flinched as his feet hit the cold floor before padding over to his door and pulling it open. His mother was on the other side, smiling at her only son.

"Good morning, Cedric," she sang happily, "It's about time you awoke; you're going to sleep away this beautiful day!" Cedric stared at her grumpily. Clara noticed this and sighed. "Get cleaned up, Ced; you've a visitor waiting in the den."

Cedric grunted his response and closed the door, running his hand through his hair as he thought of who could be calling for him. Harry or Ron, maybe. Hermione had been upset yesterday.

A sharp pang in his chest came subsequent to the thought of Hermione. He shook his head and reached for a clean t-shirt from his dresser. His fingers picked out a pale blue crew neck and he swiftly shed his dirty one before tugging the new one over his unkempt head. Only when it was on did he realise it was Hermione's favourite shirt; she wore it every time she _happened_ to fall asleep at his house. Too late he realised it still smelled of her. His stomach swooped uncomfortably, but he made no move to take it off.

"Bugger it," he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face. He grabbed a pair of grey trousers from his floor and tugged them on over his boxers, buttoning them as he walked across his room to the door. Cedric yawned again and sauntered down the hall to the loo.

He groaned as he looked in the mirror. His eyes were puffy from _crying_. He made a face at the thought. His hair was an absolute mess, so he grabbed a comb and yanked it through a few times before putting it back on the counter and turning on the taps to rinse his face.

Once he was done 'getting cleaned up,' Cedric sighed and trudged down the stairs to the den. He walked with his head down, eyes on his feet, which, he noticed, were unsocked. Cedric hated not wearing socks. This day had started badly.

He finally reached the den, his toes sinking into the familiar carpet. He looked up and around, not seeing anyone at first. Then slight shoulders and cascading hair caught his eye.

Hermione sat in the chair by the fireplace, nervously picking at her thumbnail. Her eyes were on the fire, and she didn't appear to have heard Cedric enter the room. He stayed quiet, waiting for her to notice him. He also wanted a few moments to stare openly, without her getting self-concious about his appraising eyes.

She really was beautiful. It still astounded him that she didn't agree. Her thin face and light freckles; her straight nose and elegant brows; her soft lips. But Cedric saved the best for last: her eyes. He smiled as he thought of them, of their endless depth, of their astounding colour. Cedric suddenly had an intense urge to turn her face to his and stare into her eyes. But as soon as he formed this plan, she sensed his presence and turned around in the chair.

"Hey," she said softly. She was still picking nervously at her thumbnail. Cedric smiled at how endearing she was.

"Hey," he replied, his voice rough from lack of use. He cleared his throat and started again. "Hey."

She gave a small smile, rising out of the chair to stand in front of him, but still a few feet away.

"So, um…" she started, dropping her hands to her sides and biting her lip.

"Yes?" he encouraged with a smile. She hesitantly grinned back, and Cedric took the few steps separating them and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you," she whispered into his neck. Her breath tickled. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"I know, I know," he smirked, looking down at her face. She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, staring him directly in the eyes.

"Kiss me, Cedric," she commanded quietly. His smirk grew as he obeyed her request.

As he kissed her, he wondered how he ever could've been angry with her. She was too…_Mya…_ to be angry with. He pulled away and looked into her amber eyes.

"I can't remember why I was in such a bloody strop, to be honest," he told her. Her smile drooped as her fingers played with the ends of his hair. "What?" he asked.

"I can," she muttered. Cedric frowned and pulled her closer, pressing his hips into hers. She bit her lip.

"Mya," he murmured, ducking down to kiss her neck, "I don't want to talk about this now. You're not leaving for a while, so let's just talk about it when the time comes. Deal?"

Hermione sighed and tilted her head to the side, giving him more skin to manipulate as she tried to form a coherent sentence. He chuckled, his breath saturating her neck as he trailed kisses from her jaw line to her collarbone. Her hands clenched into fists around his neck as he continued his clever assault.

"Cedric," she breathed, striving to articulate her words while being so pleasurably influenced. "Cedric, no, no, I think—" She gasped softly as he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. "—I think you misunders-stand."

Cedric shook his head. "Misunderstand what, Mya?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"Exactly when I'm—ahh, stop it, you're driving me mental," she demanded, albeit weakly. Cedric pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"Exactly when you're _what_, Mya," he urged, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Exactly when I'm leaving," Hermione responded, slightly breathless. Cedric frowned, a crease forming between his eyes. Hermione reached up to smooth it with her finger.

"Oh?" he asked bemusedly. She nodded and dropped her hand back around his neck.

"Yes. Cedric, I'm…I'm leaving after the wedding."

Cedric stared at her. His hands tightened around her waist. "What."

"Harry, Ron, and I; we're leaving after Bill and Fleur's—"

"No, no, I heard, Mya," Cedric cut in, cocking his head to the side, "I meant, 'what' merely as an exclamation of extreme surprise and distaste." He scowled down at her.

Hermione sighed and dropped her head to his chest. "Cedric, I've told you how important this is. And I don't mean more important than you, please understand that. It's just…important in a different sense."

Cedric raised a hand and placed it under her chin so he could meet her eyes. He stared at her for a moment before sighing frustratedly and running a hand through his hair. "Please, explain," he pleaded softly.

"Blah," she said, pulling a face. "It's hard to explain. But," she added hastily, catching the look on his face, "I'll try."

Cedric nodded and raised his eyebrows for her to continue. "Alright. So, you know how Harry and I are best friends, right?" Cedric scoffed.

"Yes, Mya. I vaguely recall," he replied sardonically.

"Shove it. Okay, so Harry is my best friend, and he happens to have a certain path set out that he must take. And Ron and I, we promised we would accompany him on this path. Therefore, I am leaving to accompany my best friend on a dangerous path that cannot be avoided."

Cedric raised his eyebrows higher into his fringe. "Again," he said, "take me with you."

"Ah, and we've hit a snag. See, Cedric…Oh, sod it," she muttered, shrugging her shoulders and meeting his eyes, "Dumbledore gave Harry a task to do, something he can't do alone. Dumbledore was also teaching Harry in private lessons all of Sixth year, and Harry, in turn, gave all his new information to Ron and I. Dumbledore told Harry to only tell us—his best friends—so we could help him on his, for lack of a better word, quest. Emphasis on _only_, Ced." She looked into his eyes pleadingly. "So you see why you can't come. It's a path Ron and I have been on since First year, when he and Harry saved me from the Troll."

Cedric glowered down at her, obviously incensed. "Hermione, I realise Harry is your best friend, and you feel a certain loyalty towards him, but honestly. This is incredibly dangerous, I presume, seeing as you said you might not _come back_."

"Yes, I know, Cedric, but like you said, he's my best friend. You of all people should understand this!"

"Of course I understand! But, Mya, I-I don't want to lose you!" He shouted, reaching for her wrist and tugging her into him. Hermione let him, stunned at his outburst. Cedric barely ever raised his voice; even rarer was when he raised it at her.

"Cedric," she said softly into his shoulder, "I know. I'm terrified of leaving you. But you do understand how important this is?"

Cedric nodded into her hair, breathing hard.

"Good. Please, let me go. Let me help Harry." Cedric pulled back and looked at her, long and hard. He swallowed heavily; Hermione watched his Adam's apple bob up and down with the motion. Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded one quick, sharp nod.

Hermione sighed in relief and hugged herself closely to him, breathing in his scent. "Thank you, Cedric," she murmured into his chest. He nodded again, his jaw clenched.

"Just remember, Mya, that I am _not pleased_." Hermione laughed softly, and he allowed a smile to touch his lips. "Also, I plan on not letting you out of my sight until you have to leave, so get used to having me _here_." He squeezed her to show where he meant.

"Thank God," she smirked, kissing his shoulder. "I love this shirt, by the way," she added, plucking at the sleeve.

"I know; it's the one you always wear. It smells like you, you know," he said matter-of-factly.

Hermione arched a brow and leaned in to breathe him in again. "Really?" she asked, sniffing again. "I can only smell you."

"The scent of self-pity is too strong, I guess," he laughed, shrugging. Hermione laughed, too, before inhaling again.

"No, you smell…ahh. No words." She hummed contentedly, her face burrowed into his shirt.

"Oh, fantastic. Well, I'd like to go outside and enjoy this summer weather. Would you care to join me?" Cedric inquired, twirling Hermione around.

"That would be welcome, sir. Onward."

Cedric smiled and pushed her lower back softly. "I'll meet you in the back yard; I'm going to fetch something from my room."

"Deal," she grinned at him, sauntering out of the den and down the hall to the back door. He watched her go before turning and racing up the stairs to his room. If she was leaving so soon, he had less time than he had originally thought…

He bounded into his room and reached for his bedside table drawer, tugging it open. Cedric reached inside and pulled out the small box inside, tucked into the far left corner out of sight. A small smile pulled at his lips as he shut the drawer tightly and fingered the small box before slipping it into his trouser pocket and heading out his bedroom door.

* * *

_end scene. Well? Hit or big ol' messy miss? The title is, by the way, the most AMAZING song by Bright Eyes. Well, maybe not the most amazing, but pretty darn great._

_AND HEY! Any guesses as to what our favourite Hufflepuff is scheming? Tell me in a review... heheh. Oh I'm shameless. But perhaps this early update was in response to reviews? Perhaps._

_Also, I realise last chapter I said 'oh hey this will be the wedding.' It seems I have lied. The wedding is next chapter. This time I'm not lying._

_GOOD DAY! or night. Whenever you happen to be reading, I suppose. Love Jasper._


	4. Chapter 3

_Long time no...write. Sorry. These past two weeks are quite possibly the worst of my life. My mother and sister, who had been on life-support/in the ICU for 2 months now because the mental bloke that had been stalking me for ages attacked them and I a while ago, died on the 28th. Within 5 hours of each other. My super-fun dad has somewhat disowned me because he thinks it's my fault they were in hospital in the first place(which I suppose it is but we won't linger on this fact), so I'm living with my best friend, and his mum is a social worker so she's doing that whole 'supportive' jag. I don't like the cereal they eat in the morning. Mini-wheats are gross._

I hope I made up for this absense with a long chapter. 11 pages? What? (more like 10.5. But whatever). Title=Angus and Julia Stone, Paper Aeroplane. One day I won't use a song title and then what will you all do? I would feel weird. Read on, readers.

* * *

Chapter 3

Paper Aeroplane

The Weasley household was a buzz of activity leading up to the wedding. The visit from the Minister was quite unexpected, and Hermione couldn't say it was enjoyable. And the things left to them by Dumbledore! A Deluminator, a children's book, and a tatty old snitch with a cryptic message. Hermione wracked her brains for reason behind the gifts left to them, and could come to only two conclusions: one, Dumbledore had gone barmy in his old age, or two, they were somehow relevant in the hunt for the Horcruxes. She desperately hoped for the latter.

As for the earlier part of Harry's birthday, she had no complaints. And although Hermione thought Harry could've handled himself and the whole Ginny debacle a little better, she did understand far better than Ron could the feelings behind such impulses. Ron was too hung up on the fact that Ginny was his sister and Harry had hurt her before. Hermione, however, knew it was for her own good, that Harry loved her still. Ron was just being stubborn, as usual.

After Harry's birthday cake had been complimented, eaten, and reminisced upon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone up to their respective bedrooms.

Hermione lay on her familiar mattress, her form fitting comfortingly into the mold created over so many summers. The moonlight shone bright through the open blinds, casting eerie shadows across the room. She could hear Ginny's soft, rhythmic breathing, could see the rise and fall of the blankets on top of her chest. Hermione sighed and rolled over, glaring at the moon. It was too bright. She supposed she could reach for her wand and spell the blinds down, but her wand was in her trousers pocket, which was across the room by the dresser. She sighed again and shut her eyes, trying for sleep. Nothing came.

With a groan, she pushed herself upright in her bed, the soft sheets slipping down her front to pool on her lap. Hermione quickly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, pausing to make sure Ginny didn't stir. Carefully, she placed her cold feet on the floor, hesitantly standing upright and tip-toeing to the door. Halfway across the room, she paused and considered. Deciding, she turned and headed precariously close to Ginny's bed, stooping down low and cautiously reaching into the pile of clothes for her trousers. Her fingers closed around her wand and she stood upright, murmuring _'muffliato' _as she did so.

Much less wary in her walking, Hermione strolled to the door and tugged it open quietly. The old door made no noise, to her relief. She crept silently up the stairs to the room the two boys' shared and knocked hesitantly, before opening the door.

"_Muffliato,"_ she whispered again, waving her wand in the direction of the stairs.

"Thought you didn't approve of that spell?" Ron called quietly from his spot on the bed.

"Times change," she responded quickly, smiling. "Now show us that Deluminator."

Ron nodded, holding up the silver contraption and clicking it once. The bedside lamp clicked out immediately.

Hermione frowned into the darkness, her mind reeling with questions. "The thing is," she whispered, "we could have achieved that with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder."

"Still, it's cool!" Ron defended, a little put out. "And from what they said, Dumbledore invented it himself!"

Hermione nodded, but bit her lip. "I know," she told him kindly, "but surely he wouldn't have singled you out in his will just to help us turn out the lights!" It made very little sense, the items Dumbledore left them. Surely an explanation lay somewhere.

"Do you think he _knew _the Ministry would confiscate his will and examine all the items he left to us?" Harry asked, speaking for the first time.

"Definitely," Hermione replied, nodding again into the darkness. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted. "He couldn't tell us in the will why he was leaving us these things, but that still doesn't explain…" she trailed off, closing her eyes in frustration.

"…why he couldn't have given us a hint while he was alive?" Ron finished, his voice lilting up in the end to form a question.

"Exactly," she agreed. Her eyes had adjusted now; she reached for _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _perched on Ron's bedside table and began flicking through it. "I mean, these things, they must be important if he felt the need to pass them right under the nose of the Ministry, you know? You'd reckon he'd have let us know why…That is, unless he thought it was obvious?"

"Apparently he thought wrong, then, huh?" Ron said, leaning back onto the wall and tilting his head to the ceiling. "I always said he was mental. Brilliant, but cracked. I mean, leaving Harry a grotty old snitch? What the hell is that about?"

"Not a clue," she replied, sighing. "It is lucky that Harry didn't catch his first snitch with his hands though, don't you reckon? Otherwise, Scrimgeour would've been all over it within seconds."

Harry chuckled softly. "Yeah, only _I _would catch my very first snitch with my mouth."

Ron laughed, his shoulders shaking against the wall.

"Shut up, Ron, you'll wake your mother!" Hermione warned, knocking his foot with her palm. Ron nodded, still laughing, although it was silent now.

"But what it said makes no bloody sense," Harry stated, shaking his head. Ron stopped laughing and sighed.

"I know. _'I open at the close'_? What is that meant to mean?"

Hermione groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "I've no idea. We've been over this all time and time again. The sword, the book, the deluminator; none of it makes sense!"

"Merlin, I wish he had left us just _one _hint as to what it all meant," Ron moaned, running his hand through his messy red hair.

"I know! Ah, I despise being confused," she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling loudly.

"Well, maybe Ced has some ideas," Harry suggested, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Hermione raised her head and looked at him. "Cedric would be no help. The past two days he's been acting really strange. Have you two not noticed?"

Harry and Ron shook their heads in unison. "No…well, I mean, he's been staying a lot closer to you than usual, but that ties into the whole 'not letting you out of his sight until we leave' plan," Ron said, scratching his chin.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, but that's expected. I mean…he's been acting—he's very jumpy, it seems. As if something is going to happen, and the anticipation is making him go spare. I'm actually a bit worried." She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and began chewing.

"Don't let it bother you, Hermione. After all, you're leaving in a day or two, and he has no idea when you'll be back," Harry told her reassuringly.

"Perhaps you're right…" she murmured. She sounded half-convinced. "Ah, so much stress." She lowered herself onto the floor and splayed her limbs out like a star. The moon shone brightly into Ron's room, too, but only through a crack in the blinds.

"Of course I'm right," Harry proclaimed, smirking.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron snorted and chucked a pillow at his head. "Hey!" he whisper-shouted, glaring at giggled softly, but her giggling stopped abruptly when a small piece of parchment appeared in mid-air in front of her.

It floated down slowly, landing on her chest. Hermione frowned and reached for it, curious. A familiar messy scrawl met her eyes.

"Cedric," she muttered, smiling.

"What?" Ron asked, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the note.

"Cedric sent me a note," Hermione explained, holding up the parchment. "Hold on, let me read it…" Hermione's eyes narrowed as she tried to read the message in the dim light.

"Oh, here," Ron said, flicking the Deluminator. Light filled the room from the bedside lamp. Hermione smiled at him in thanks and went back to the note.

_Mya, I am lying in my bed alone, finding it increasingly difficult to fall asleep. Perhaps you would be so inclined as to trundle on over and crawl in next to me? I miss you._

_Love from that bloke you claim you fancy._

Hermione laughed at the last bit and sat upright. "Ron, Harry, would it be alright if I spent the night at Cedric's?" she asked courteously.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Hermione," Ron said seriously," please tell me he did not just send you a dirty note." He looked disgusted at the very thought.

Hermione gave him a look before responding. "No, Ronald, it is not a dirty note. He merely requested my presence."

"Sure thing, mistress. Want us to cover for you in the morning?" Harry asked, smiling.

"No, I'm sure Mrs Weasley will be fine with it. And besides, I'll have to be back early to beautify myself. Goodnight, you two. We'll figure out what Dumbledore meant later." She pushed herself to her feet and walked softly out of the room.

Quietly, she tip-toed down the stairs, through the living room, and into the back garden via the door by the pantry. The summer night air was muggy, making the back of her neck sticky within seconds. She pulled at the back of Cedric's blue crew-neck she stole and fanned herself slightly with the fabric before pulling out her wand from the waist band of her boxers and spinning in a tight circle. A loud _'pop'_ resounded through the dark night, but Hermione was already gone.

With a crack, she appeared in Cedric's bedroom. She stumbled upon touch-down, reaching out to steady herself against the wall.

"Jesus," she muttered, pushing her hair off her face and standing upright.

Cedric's grinning face greeted her. "Hey, love," he murmured, crawling out of his tangle of sheets and wrapping his arms around her. "I assume you received my sophisticated note?"

"Note?" Hermione said into his chest, "What note?"

Cedric grinned wider and picked her up off the floor. "Come with me, Mya," he said softly. Hermione obliged, not really having much say in the matter. Cedric's hands grabbed at her exposed thighs as he lifted her higher up. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tightly, not wanting to fall.

"Calm down, Mya, I won't drop you," Cedric chuckled, his breath tickling her collarbone.

"Liar," she breathed, her fingers gripping his t-shirt tightly.

"What!" he demanded, looking up to her face. "So little faith!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but halfway through gasped in shock as Cedric dropped her onto his bed, grinning wickedly as he did so.

"Prat!" she whispered, her hands gripping the sheets.

Cedric grinned. "You sort of asked for it, mental girl," he told her, bending over her and placing his hands on either side of her head. Hermione swallowed.

"I," she enunciated, "am not a 'mental girl.' Prat."

Cedric smirked, lowering himself further. His legs remained on the floor, but his hips and stomach pressed into her, his face hovering mere inches above hers. Being in such close proximity to the closest thing to perfection she had ever seen made breathing a challenge. Her breaths became slower, shallower.

"Now, now, Mya, you are being quite rude, Perhaps I shall make you sleep on the floor…" His bronze hair flopped into his eyes. Hermione's thin hand reached up and brushed it back softly. His gaze dropped quickly to her lips and back again to her eyes.

"You will do no such thing," she told him breathlessly, her hands cupping his cheeks. Cedric grinned before leaning down and pressing his lips softly to hers. She smiled into his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her. Cedric's full weight pressed down on her, filling her with warmth. He rolled over, pulling her with him, and pressed his long fingers to the bare skin at the small of her back, where his blue shirt had ridden up. She gasped at the contact; his fingers were cold.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, illuminating Cedric's bedroom with its unearthly light, Cedric and Hermione lay together, eventually falling asleep as exhaustion took them.

A blazing patch of sunlight hit Hermione square in the face.

"What the bloody…" she muttered groggily, raising her head and glaring at the sun. "Oh, ouch. That was daft." She ducked her head back down and rubbed at her eyes. Red and yellow splotches of light kept disrupting her vision.

"Stop squirming, Mya," Cedric demanded sleepily. Hermione turned her head and came face to face with God's greatest accomplishment.

"Sorry," she replied softly, kissing the tip of his nose. He grinned drowsily and cracked open a grey eye.

"What time is it?" he asked her, untangling his long arms from around her waist and stretching them to the ceiling. His elbows and wrists made audible cracks, and Hermione winced.

"I hate that noise," she reminded him, turning her body to completely face him. "And I don't have the time; my watch is in my room at the Weasleys'."

"Right, sorry," Cedric grinned, curling his arms in front of him and resting his head on them, much like a pillow. "Well I suppose I could glance at my wrist…but it's under my head at the moment. And I am far too comfortable."

Hermione rolled her eyes and tugged at his right arm. "Come on, Ced. This is important; Bill and Fleur are getting married today!"

A frown appeared on Cedric's face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. "I know, I know. Fine, here." He slipped his arm out from under his head and held his wrist up to Hermione's face.

Hermione gasped and shot upright in bed. "Bloody hell, Ced, it's past noon!"

Cedric groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. "No. I want to lie in bed with you."

Hermione looked at him and smiled. "I have to go get ready, Cedric, the wedding is in two hours!"

"Bollocks."

Hermione rolled her eyes and swung her legs over the edge of his bed, not realizing she was helplessly tangled in the sheets. She took a step and tumbled to the floor, pulling all of Cedric's sheets down with her. She landed with a crash, the sheets flipping over her head.

Cedric stared at her. Hermione stared at him. "How the bleeding hell does this happen…" she asked the room.

Cedric started laughing.

"You're a prat, Cedric," Hermione told him, frowning. Cedric kept laughing, trying to get up to help her off the floor. But his laughter kept him restrained to his bed.

Hermione sighed and struggled to her feet, fighting to de-tangle her limbs. "Now I _really _have to go," she said, wincing as she brushed at a forming bruise on her shin. "I'll have to ask Mrs Weasley if she can't fix these bruises I have recently acquired." She straightened her (his) shirt and headed to the door, grabbing her wand on the way. "I'll see you in a few hours, Ced," she called, turning to smile at him. Cedric's laughing had quietened some.

"Wait, Mya," he told her, hopping gracefully off his bed and loping towards her. "That is no way to say goodbye."

Hermione rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. He tightened his hold on her waist.

"Bye, Ced," she whispered before stepping back and spinning in place.

She arrived in Ginny's bedroom with another 'crack.' Ginny screamed, falling back onto her bed.

"Merlin, Hermione!" she cried, clutching her chest, "You scared me half to death!"

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry," she told her. "You look beautiful."

Ginny blushed and looked down at her dress, the golden fabric flowing gracefully down her body. "Thanks," she said. "Now where have you been? You need to get into your dress and have your hair and make-up done!"

Hermione nodded and walked to Ginny's closet, reaching for her lilac dress and holding it up. "I was at Cedric's," she answered, turning around and looking at Ginny.

"That dress is so gorgeous, Hermione," Ginny complimented, reaching out to touch the floaty material. "Cedric's, huh? Do tell."

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes. "Nothing to tell, Gin," she assured her, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "How much time do I have?" She asked, glancing around for her wrist-watch.

"Um…about an hour and a half. Hurry up." Ginny turned around to give Hermione some privacy as she slipped her dress on over her head after shedding her clothes.

"Thanks," she said before turning around herself. "Zip me?"

Ginny obliged, quickly zipping the delicate zipper and swatting Hermione's bum. "Perfect," she stated, grinning. "Now for that hair of yours."

Hermione grimaced and ran a thin hand through her mess of curls. "It's horrendous today, isn't it? I don't know how Cedric could wake up to this," she waved at her head.

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "It _is _a sight to behold." Hermione pulled another face and patted hopelessly at her out-of-control curls. "Don't worry; I've some Sleekeazy in the loo. I'll be right back." Ginny turned and sped out of the room, her dress flapping elegantly behind her.

Hermione sighed and sat on her unmade bed, her hands floating over the fabric of her dress self-consciously. It was far showier than anything she was used to. And Cedric hadn't seen her in it yet; he hadn't even seen the dress itself.

Ginny burst back into the room, Sleekeazy clutched in her hand like a weapon. "Come here," she commanded, waving to the dresser with the vanity.

Hermione smiled and trotted over to where Ginny stood. "Sit," Ginny ordered of her. She obliged, tucking the dress under as she did so. Ginny scrutinized her head before nodding and squeezing a large dollop of potion into her palm. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

"Ta-da," Ginny sang, moments later. Hermione opened her eyes and looked hesitantly in the mirror. Her hair had been transformed from curly and unmanageable to sleek and shiny.

"Thanks, Gin," she smiled, reaching up to touch it. "That potion is amazing."

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Now your make-up; how did you want it?"

Hermione bit her lip in thought and considered herself in the mirror. "Well, not too much," she said, and Ginny nodded again.

"No way, too much make-up makes you look like a slag. No offence."

"None taken," she responded with an eye-roll. "Perhaps just what we did for the Yule Ball?"

Ginny grinned. "Ah, the Yule Ball. The night your life began."

Hermione blushed and gave her a look. "It was not _'the night my life began;'_ I had a life prior to meeting Ced," she told her, slightly defensive.

"Yeah, but a life without Cedric is not a life worth living."

"You know, I think you fancy him more than I do," Hermione said, smirking. "Merlin knows you'd feed his ego far better."

Ginny laughed. "Perhaps. Now, make-up. We've only 45 minutes before guests arrive!"

Her make-up, simple and elegant, took longer than her hair had. 20 minutes later, Ginny pulled back, smiling triumphantly.

"Done," she pronounced, turning Hermione to face the mirror. Hermione looked at the face in the mirror in confusion at first. She looked so much older!

"Wow, Gin, thank you! I never would've gotten this done." Hermione squeezed the younger girl's arm in thanks.

"I know, I know. Come on, we should get outside, I reckon." Ginny turned to the door and tugged it open. "After you," she smirked.

"Thank you, Ginevra," Hermione responded, raising her chin snootily. Ginny snorted and followed her out.

They walked carefully down the stairs, not wanting to roll any ankles before the wedding. Hermione stumbled only once, whereas Ginny didn't stumble at all. Hermione was a bit jealous.

They had almost reached the living room when Ginny's great-aunt Muriel blocked the stairs, her old Goblin-made tiara in hand.

"Oh," she said haughtily, looking Hermione up and down, "Ginevra, is this the Muggle-born?"

Ginny glared at her great-aunt surreptitiously before responding, "Yes, Aunt Muriel; this is Hermione Granger. She's the brightest witch of her age." Hermione blushed slightly at the compliment.

"Is she, now?" Aunt Muriel wanted to know, "Well, education must not be what it used to. Pity to see it slip so far…"

Hermione gawked at the woman, her cheeks colouring once more. "I beg your pardon?"

"Muggle-borns," Aunt Muriel muttered, before saying louder, "Bad posture and skinny ankles, that's what you've got, girl. Now move, I've to deliver my tiara to the _French _girl."

Muriel bustled past them and up the rest of the stairs. Hermione stared after her, extremely surprised that woman was related to the Weasleys she knew.

"She's an old bag, ignore her," Ginny told her, glaring after her great-aunt.

"Okay," Hermione agreed quickly. "Come on, we'll be late."

The two hurried into the back yard, which had been transformed into a beautiful marquee. Hermione looked around for Cedric's tall frame, but couldn't see him, so instead searched for Harry's wild hair. But then she remembered he had drunken Poly-Juice Potion to blend in, so instead gave up and dove into the growing crowd, Ginny at her side.

"This is mental; there are so many people here," she whispered to Ginny. Ginny nodded, and was about to reply, but she was pulled away by Gabrielle.

"The brides-maids must go to the bride, Ginny," Gabrielle told her urgently, tugging her along. Ginny shrugged at Hermione and allowed herself to be pulled away.

Hermione sighed and continued walking. Suddenly, a particularly familiar tall redhead caught her eye, and she hurried towards him.

"Hey, you two!" she greeted. Ron and 'Barny' looked at her for a moment before responding.

"Wow, Hermione…you look great!" Ron told her enthusiastically.

"Always the tone of surprise…" she muttered, though she smiled. "Your great-aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur her tiara. She said 'Oh, is this the muggle-born?' and then 'bad posture and skinny ankles'."

Ron and Harry laughed. "Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone."

"I can imagine. She's nothing like the rest of your family."

"I know, but there's not really anything we can legally do to change that," Ron said sadly.

Hermione pushed his shoulder and he shot her a grin. "Come on, we're blocking the aisle."

She, Harry, and Ron found a place to stand without disturbing anyone quite quickly, despite the crowds of people. Hermione stood next to Harry, grabbing his sleeve to balance as she leaned down to rub her ankles. Heels were a menace. She looked up again to try and find Cedric, and instead came face-to-face with Viktor Krum.

"You look vunderful, Herm-own-ninny," he said in his deep voice.

Hermione jumped, dropping her beaded purse and letting out a shriek. "Viktor! I didn't know you were—goodness—it's lovely to see—how are you?" She scrambled, blushing all the while.

Suddenly, Cedric was at her side, holding her purse up and glaring at Krum. "Hey, Mya," he said softly, still glaring, "I heard you scream. What's the matter? Is Krum bothering you?"

Krum shook his head and glared back at Cedric. "Diggory," he greeted stiffly.

Cedric inclined his head in acknowledgement. "What are you doing here?"

Krum gave him a sharp look. "Fleur invited me."

"Oh." Cedric pulled Hermione closer to him and grabbed her hand tightly. "I like your little beard you're growing, Krum."

Krum grunted in response and fingered his small tufts of hair. The awkward tension was broken by Fred, as he traipsed over and announced their prudent relocation.

Their group, minus Krum, took their seats in the front row. Cedric still kept a tight hold on Hermione's hand, glaring every-so-often over his shoulder. Hermione frowned and turned his face to hers.

"Stop it," she told him quietly. "You're being ridiculous."

Cedric's brow furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out. Hermione felt her heart flip. "I'm sorry," he whispered back.

"It's alright, you're cute when you're jealous, actually," she told him matter-of-factly.

Cedric's pout grew more pronounced. "Cute?" he questioned, his eyebrows rising. "Cute? Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. Babies in general are cute. _I _am not cute." He wrinkled his nose at the very thought.

Hermione laughed softly and kissed him, partially to shut him up, but also because he looked absolutely adorable when he was pouting. Cedric kissed her back, pulling her closer by tugging on her hand. They both momentarily forgot where they were, but Ron's obvious throat clearing brought them back quickly. Hermione blushed and pulled away, not looking at Ron. Cedric rubbed his face and gave Hermione a goofy grin before fingering Ron discreetly and turning to face the altar.

The wedding was absolutely beautiful. Hermione found herself in tears by the 'I-do's', and sheepishly looked to Cedric, only to find him watching her intently, his bottom lip in his teeth.

"What?" She whispered, brushing at her tears. Cedric shook his head and wiped at her tears with his thumb, smiling crookedly as he turned back to the wedding.

The transition from wedding to reception was very smooth, even for wizards. The food was amazing, the drinks delicious, and the live band was very good. Cedric, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry sat together at a table, snacking on tarts and sandwiches. The band struck up a particularly lively tune and Cedric turned to Hermione, grinning wildly.

"Dance with me," he told her. Hermione's eyes widened.

"What? Why?" she asked.

Cedric scoffed. "Dance with me, Mya." He stood up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet and dragging her onto the dance floor. "Oh, like it's such a bloody chore to dance with me?" He joked, tickling her sides.

"Cedric!" she cried, swatting at his hands. "Dancing is not my forte, if you'll recall."

Cedric laughed and began swinging Hermione's arms wildly. "Spin!" he cried jovially, spinning Hermione quickly and catching her in a dip.

"Bloody hell, Ced," Hermione gasped, clutching at the front of his robes. "Don't _do _that!"

Cedric merely grinned and pulled her upright. His expression became suspiciously innocent as he gazed around at the ornaments and other guests. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Cedric…" she began, but was unable to finish, for Cedric suddenly picked her up and swung her over his broad shoulders, laughing, and started sprinting out of the marquee.

"Cedric!" she cried, hitting his back with her fists. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Cedric laughed again and swatted her bum.

"Don't be so bloody cheeky, Ced," she reprimanded, blushing. Cedric laughed harder at her choice of words.

"Mya, you are amazing. Most of the time."

Hermione frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, indignant, crossing her arms while still upside down.

"I was joking, Mya, you're always much more than amazing." Cedric had slowed to a walk now, and he stopped and spun in a circle quickly.

"Cedric!" Hermione protested. Cedric laughed softly and stopped spinning, letting Hermione down.

"Just joshing," he told her, wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her head into his chest.

"Not funny. I'm all woozy now," she said into his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Sorry, love. Want to sit down?" He pulled away so he could pull out his wand and conjure a soft linen blanket, which he shook out and lay on the spongy grass. "After you," he insisted, gesturing grandly.

"Thank you, thank you," Hermione replied, grabbing his hand and tugging him down with her. Cedric growled and fell on top of her, his arms supporting most of his weight.

"Careful, love," he warned. Hermione scoffed.

"No way. Kiss me."

Cedric smirked and obliged, pressing her into the blanket. His hands found her hair, and when he ran his fingers through it, he pulled back and stared.

"That's different," he said simply. Hermione laughed.

"It's a potion that makes it more manageable. Surely your mother has some?"

"Probably. Let's not talk about my mother right now, yeah?" He grimaced and Hermione laughed again before pulling his face down to crush her lips against his.

"Yes, now is _definitely _not the time to be thinking of your mother…" she whispered as she kissed her way across his jaw line. Cedric groaned, and someone cleared their throat.

"Sorry to interrupt," George smirked.

"But you've got some mates wondering as to your whereabouts," Fred finished with a grin and a wink. Two Veela cousins of Fleur's were attached to the twins' arms.

Hermione blushed and sat up, Cedric rolling off of her and sitting next to her.

"Yeah, okay, thanks, mates." Cedric stood up to gather the blanket, but Fred stopped him.

"Mind leaving that here, Ced?" he asked, winking again. Cedric grinned and shook his head.

"Not at all. See you lot later."

Hermione grabbed his hand as they walked back to the marquee. "That," she announced, "was embarrassing."

Cedric squeezed her hand. "Those two don't care, Mya. They're Fred and George."

"This is true," she allowed, leaning into him. "I'm hungry."

"Me, too," Cedric agreed.

"Then let's hurry back and grab some sandwiches!" Hermione urged, tugging his hand.

Cedric hesitated. "Actually, Mya, why don't we continue on our stroll?"

Hermione cocked her head and looked at him. "Why?" she asked.

"Because it's a beautiful night. And because I love you." He grinned his crooked grin and Hermione melted. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her neck. "Walk with me?"

Hermione groaned and nodded, her fingers gripping his dress robes. "Walk with you."

They continued on their stroll through the Weasley's garden, pointing out gnomes and chuckling at their antics. Cedric seemed slightly nervous the whole way through, though, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the same. Cedric was beginning to worry her.

"What's wrong?" she asked after a particularly delayed laugh.

"What?" He shook his head. "Oh, nothing, nothing. Just…thinking."

"About what?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Um…"Cedric hesitated, seemingly considering his words. "Just…you. And me. Us would probably be a better way to put it."

Hermione nodded, though she was confused. "Us. What about us?"

Cedric stopped and looked at the grassy yard at his feet. "I'm going to miss you, so much, when you're gone," he said softly. He tugged his bottom lip into his teeth. The sounds of the band playing suddenly seemed farther away, though they were no more than 15 feet away.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Ced," she told him, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. He hugged her close and buried his head in her hair.

"Please reconsider, Mya," he pleaded. Hermione sighed and pressed her cheek into his sternum. She never wanted to leave.

"I can't, Cedric; you already know how it has to be."

"What if the circumstances changed?" he asked, raising his head and looking into her eyes. His fringe was getting longer; it constantly flopped into his eyes. Hermione reached up and brushed it away softly.

"How so?" she asked, curious as to what he was getting at.

"Well…" he took a deep breath and looked directly into her eyes. "What if you were my wife?"

* * *

_Heyo! What say you to that. I realise it was rather obvious as to what was going to happen. Brap. Way to go _KatieGrace07 _for being the sharpest one of the bunch and getting it asap. _

_Review, please._

_Jasper._


	5. Chapter 4

_I'M SORRY. I realise it is nearly a MONTH past May 19th. All I can say is: I'm sorry. I managed to get hit by a car, so I had to be in Hospital for a while, plus all sorts of ridiculous family dramas. I am sorry. Blah. Hopefully it was worth the wait? The title is the VERY BEST SONG by Jose Gonzalez. I recommend bustling over to youtube and listening to it, pronto._

* * *

Chapter 4

_Heartbeats_

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She stared up into Cedric's nervously hopeful face with wide eyes. He stared back, his lip still in his teeth and his nose slightly crinkled in anticipation.

"W-what..?" Hermione stuttered. Her fingers clenched the fabric of his dress robes tensely, and Cedric's face dropped ever so slightly.

"I asked…if things would be different if you—if you were my wife?" He furrowed his brow and his cheeks blushed pink. Hermione frowned and opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again. She did this a number of times, trying to find the right words to say.

"Well, I…it's like—If I were to…we would…how on Earth—Cedric." Apparently the right words were still M.I.A. Hermione resigned herself to closing her mouth and staring into Cedric's eyes.

"Why not, Mya?" he asked softly. His grey irises seemed to get bigger and bigger as Hermione stared, at a loss for what to say. She blinked slowly and bit her lip.

"Cedric, I…we're missing the reception," she responded quietly. Cedric stared hard at her for a moment before nodding and looking down at his feet.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. His cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment. Hermione sighed and unwrapped her arms from around his waist, grabbing his right hand instead.

Cedric and Hermione walked the fifteen feet back to the tent in silence.

"Where have you two been?" Ron asked loudly from the table he, Harry, Ginny, and Luna were occupying.

Hermione looked up sharply, tearing her gaze from her elaborate heels. "What? Oh, we were…walking." She glanced at Cedric, who nodded and pulled out a chair to sit in.

"Yep, walking and talking. Talking and walking." He frowned down at the tablecloth, cupping his cheek in his palm.

"Oh?" Ginny asked, looking from Hermione to Cedric in interest, "What about?"

Cedric grunted a response, and Hermione sighed and sat down next to him. She rested a thin hand on his thigh, and he looked slowly at her.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed. He nodded and looked away, back to the conversation.

"…and Daddy told me that they live in great nests they build out of unicorn hair and egg shells. But only the speckled ones, you know. Plain eggshells will not do."

Ron stared at Luna, his lips twitching. Harry was laughing into his serviette, and Ginny was trying to appear interested, while sneaking covert glances in Hermione and Cedric's direction.

Hermione sighed and turned to listen to Luna ramble, removing her hand from Cedric's leg.

Hermione and Cedric were soon the only ones left at their table. Harry and Ginny had gotten up to dance, as had Ron and Luna. Hermione kept glancing over at Cedric, who had yet to speak an actual sentence to her. But every time she looked over, he was staring hard at the table cloth with a furrowed brow.

"Cedric," she sighed, dropping her head to the table. Hard. "Bugger," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. She looked up to see Cedric smiling. "Finally," she said in relief.

Cedric dropped his gaze, but continued smiling. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I'm glad my pain causes you happiness, Ced," she told him. Cedric's head shot up quicker than she could've imagined.

"Seeing you in pain would never make me happy, Mya," he whispered angrily to her. Hermione stared with wide eyes.

"Cedric, I was just having a laugh. I didn't mean…"

Cedric shook his head and resumed his table-glaring. "Nevermind," he muttered. "It doesn't matter."

"Vould you care to dance?" asked a deep voice in Hermione's ear. She started and looked up quickly, nearly knocking heads with Viktor Krum.

"Oh, Viktor, you scared me!" she laughed, her hand fluttering about her chest. Viktor smiled and quirked an eyebrow. "Of course I'll dance with you. You don't mind, do you Cedric?"

Cedric looked up from the simply _enthralling _table cloth and fixed Krum with a glare. He then looked to Hermione and his eyes became void of emotion. "No, not at all. Have fun."

Hermione frowned. Krum reached for her hand and tugged her along to the dance floor, grinning hugely at his success. Hermione followed, but couldn't help looking back at the dark form of Cedric. Tonight was their last night together.

The band began to play a slower number, the droning instruments sounding almost melancholy. _How fitting, _Hermione thought as she found herself wrapped up in the wrong pair of arms.

Viktor pulled Hermione close, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other gently held her hand. Hermione sighed and placed a thin hand delicately on Viktor's shoulder, allowing her other hand to be manipulated by him. He led her around the dance floor almost gracefully, although he would never have the natural elegance that Cedric seemed to own. Hermione sighed again.

Viktor and Hermione found themselves dancing slowly next to Ron and Luna, who had her arms above her head and her eyes closed. She was swaying softly and humming to herself, her dirty blonde hair blowing gently in the wind. Ron was watching her with a smile on his face. For once, he wasn't laughing outright. Harry and Ginny were just past Ron, cleverly hidden from his view by a hefty red-haired cousin. Hermione smirked at the pair before glancing towards their table, looking for Cedric. But before she could find him, Viktor's grip on her waist and hand tightened uncomfortably and he stopped dancing suddenly.

"Who is that man?" he hissed, his dark eyes angry. Hermione turned to see where he was looking.

"Oh, that's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's a friend of the Weasleys," she told him, perplexed. "Why did you ask?"

"Because," said Viktor, "if he were not a guest of the host, I would duel him, here and now."

Hermione stared up at him, shocked. She had never known Viktor to be a voluntarily violent person. His sudden proclamation of desired duelling caught her off guard.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she wanted to know.

Viktor tore his angry gaze away from Mr Lovegood and fixed it on Hermione. "Grindlevald," he spat. "That sign upon his chest is the sign of Grindlevald. It vas carved into the valls of Durmstrang, and some foolish students copied it onto their books and clothes. I haff lost family members to Grindlevald, as had other students. Ve taught these idiots better." He cracked his knuckles and returned his glare to Xenophilius.

"Grindlewald, as in the Dark Wizard Dumbledore defeated?" Hermione asked. Viktor nodded, still tense. "Well, Viktor…it's entirely possible that Mr Lovegood has absolutely no idea what the sign even means. He's…eccentric."

Viktor grunted and continued glaring at Mr Lovegood. Hermione sighed and tried to look over the many heads on the dance floor to see Cedric. She found Harry sitting at a table with Aunt Muriel and a twitchy little man Hermione didn't recognize. Harry looked shell-shocked. She made a note to ask him about it later and continued on her search. But before she could find him, something large and silver streaked across the dance floor and came to a graceful halt in the middle of the floor. Those nearest to it froze absurdly in mid-dance, mouths dropping open. The lynx opened its mouth wide and Kingsley Shacklebolt's smooth, slow voice rang clear and loud over the wedding party.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

It was completely silent for all of about two seconds before the chaos erupted. Hermione tore herself away from Viktor, reaching quickly for her wand as she searched frantically for Cedric. A large hand grabbed her arm and her heart leapt in relief, before she turned and came face to face with not Cedric, but Harry.

"Hermione, come on!" he shouted, tugging her arm anxiously. Hermione nodded vaguely, still searching the jostling crowd for Cedric. "Hermione, come _on!"_ Another pair of strong arms caught her around the waist and pulled.

"No, no, Cedric!" she shouted, trying to twist out of the grasp. The arms tightened and a familiar voice spoke in her ear.

"Hermione, we have to get out of here! _Now!"_ Ron bellowed, picking her up and grabbing Harry's arm.

"Put me down, Ronald!" Hermione ordered. Ron shook his head, tightening his grip on her waist. "Put me _down!"_

"Hermione, the bloody Death Eaters are coming here _now._ You can contact Cedric when we're safe!"

Hermione growled and pulled her wand. "Drop me, Ronald," she told him, pushing her wand into his back. He stiffened. "I know you're right, and I know we have to get out of here. But it's bloody hard to apparate if I'm upside down on a bloke's back!"

Ron breathed a sigh of relief that Hermione was listening to him before setting her on her feet. "Good, let's get out of he— " Ron's mouth snapped shut as swirling black figures began appearing on the fringe of the wedding party. "Bloody hell," he whispered. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and raised her wand.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron, hold on!" she urged. Ron's hand shot out and grasped her arm as she spun quickly in place. The familiar suffocating tube engulfed them as they spun through time and space.

They landed with a 'crack!' on a busy Muggle street. Hermione didn't take any time to look around as she began to walk briskly down the cobbled street, ignoring the obnoxious men as they wolf-whistled at her.

"Walk, just walk, we need to find a place for you two to change," Hermione panted as they half-walked, half-ran down the street.

"Change into what?" Ron asked. "We haven't anything to change into."

Many of the Muggles on the street were beginning to take notice of their strange attire. Harry and Ron were still in dress robes, and Hermione's dress was far too elegant to be every day outdoor wear.

"Why don't I have the bloody Invisibility Cloak on me? I had it all last year, and now…" Harry ran an agitated hand through his hair, flinching as a passing girl laughed raucously at him and Ron.

"I have it, don't worry, I have everything, just keep walking," Hermione urged, turning suddenly down a side street into a shady alley. "Change here."

"Into _what?_" Ron wanted to know.

"Ron, just give me a sodding minute."

Hermione reached into her small beaded purse and rummaged around, finally extracting a pair of dark denim trousers and a dark green jumper and throwing them at Ron.

"What the _bloody _hell…" Ron murmured as he quickly tugged on the new clothes. Hermione ignored him and continued search in the magical bag.

"Ah, here it is—Harry, catch." She tossed his Invisibility Cloak to him and Harry grabbed it wordlessly, his eyes fixed on the impossibly small bag from which Hermione had just pulled an entire outfit and a large cloak.

"Hurry up," she muttered, glancing furtively around them at the dingy rubbish bins and weathered bricks.

"Where do we go from here?" Ron was struggling with the button on his trousers, hopping up and down in an attempt to get it secured. Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"It doesn't matter, we should just keep moving…Come on," she said, leading them back onto the main road and choosing a direction at random.

"By the way," Harry said from under the Cloak, "Where are we?"

"Tottenham Court Road," Hermione answered, grabbing Ron's arm and tugging him back onto the sidewalk as a car narrowly missed hitting him. "For Merlin's Sake, Ron, watch where you walk."

"Sorry," Ron said. "Why'd we come here?"

"Not a single clue. It's the first place I thought of. But we ought to be safe out in the Muggle world, don't you reckon?" She grimaced as the men from earlier continued their vulgar whistling. Ron shot them a glare.

"Bloody prats," he muttered, kicking at a piece of rubbish on the road.

"What do you think happened to all the guests?" Harry asked suddenly. His voice floated out from seemingly no where. It slightly creeped Hermione out.

"We can't think about that now, Harry. It's not as if any of those guests were Harry Potter, though. We can't go back, it'd cause more trouble." Hermione's chest ached when she thought of Cedric.

"I suppose," Harry muttered. Hermione could practically hear his furrowed brow.

"Hey, in there." Ron pointed to a grubby-looking café; Hermione and Harry nodded, though Harry was still invisible, and they hurried across the street and into the café.

It was dingier inside than out. The wall paper was peeling, and there were suspicious stains on the ceiling. A dark brown mold was seeping from one of the light fixtures.

A tired-looking waitress looked up at the bell that signalled their arrival. Ron nodded to her, and she quietly went back to her nail file.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all took a seat at one of the greasy tables. Hermione had her back to the door, and Harry and Ron sat opposite her.

"Stop twitching, Hermione, it's making me nervous," Harry whispered. Hermione glared at him, but her constant shoulder-checks stopped.

"Hey, we're not that far from Charing Cross Road," Ron mentioned. "We could go to the Leaky Cauldron, just to, you know, see what's happening?"

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Ron, we know what's happened! Voldemort's infiltrated the Ministry, and we're currently on the run with the most wanted Wizard in Great Britain."

Harry dropped his head and scratched at his neck. He'd be more comfortable if they hadn't given up everything to accompany him.

"Okay, okay, just a thought." Ron raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. "So where do we go from here?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled loudly. With her eyes still shut, she raised her face from the table and tugged at her hair. "I think…" She tried to form a sentence to answer Ron's question, but Cedric kept popping into her mind. Was he okay? "I think we should find a place to Disapparate and then we can send a Patronus to the others, see how they are."

Ron nodded. "So you can do those? Those talking things?"

Hermione laughed a bit at his description. "Yes, I've been practicing and I think I've gotten it. Mad-Eye helped me." Her eyes pricked slightly as she mentioned her late professor.

"Wicked. Come on then, let's go. This coffee is foul." He clunked his cup back onto the formica-topped table and stood up. As he did so, the two only other patrons in the café pulled out their wands.

"Get down, Ron!" Harry shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him down, just as a green flash whizzed by his head.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed, rubbing his elbow and struggling to remove his wand. Hermione had already succeeded, raising her wand and shouting "_Stupefy!" _at the massive blonde one. It hit him in the face and exploded; he crumpled to the ground. His partner, a man with a twisted face, raised his wand and hissed a spell, just missing Hermione. She dove to the side, ducking under a table and scrambling out the other side.

The Death Eater quickly turned his attention to Ron, Harry still invisible. He hissed another spell and Ron quite suddenly found himself bound completely by thick black ropes. He tottered unevenly as the ropes tightened around his legs before falling hard onto the linoleum floor. Harry threw a stunning spell at the Death Eater, but he missed, hitting the fleeing waitress instead. She tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Hermione had raced to Ron's side, and was now attempting to remove the enchanted ropes. "Hold still, Ron!" she cried, but Ron kept struggling. She distantly heard Harry shout out seconds before the table they were behind exploded, pelting them with debris. "Bugger," she whispered, wiping dust from her eyes and spitting out table fragments. Ron let out a bark of a laugh before his eyes widened in shock and he roughly shoved her head down.

A streak of green rushed over the top of her head, singing her elaborate up-do. Ron growled and raised his wand, but Harry beat him to it.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _he shouted. The spell hit the Death Eater square in the back and he crashed to the floor, landing in a heap amidst the broken china and table fragments. Total silence, aside from their heavy breathing, followed his tumble.

"How the fuck did they know where to find us?" Ron demanded, shaking his head to get the dust out.

"No idea, now hold still!" Hermione aimed her wand carefully at the ropes trapping Ron and muttered _"Diffindo!"_

"Ah! Bleeding hell, Hermione!" Ron shouted, flinching away as a deep gash was carved into his knee.

"Bolocks; Ron, I'm sorry, my hand's shaking! Hold still again." She tried again, and the ropes fell away as the spell cut through them. "Now, what are we going to do?"

Harry tugged the Cloak off of himself and pointed to the door. "Lock it," he told her. "Ron, turn out the lights."

Ron nodded and pulled out the Deluminator as Hermione flicked her wand to lock the door. "Hermione, do you know how to wipe memories?"

Hermione nodded shakily, glancing uneasily at the door, out to the darkened street. "Y-yes…well, only the theory, but…"

"Good. Wipe their memories, and hers, too." He nodded towards the waitress. "Ron, you and I will clean this up a bit. Come on now, hurry."

Hermione gulped nervously and crouched in front of the tall blonde one. "Harry," she called, "should I move them? Back to the tables?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, yeah, do that. Hurry up, though, yeah?"

Hermione licked her lips, tasting plaster. Raising her wand, she muttered the spell and positioned the massive Death Eater and his companion at an intact table. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let her muscles relax. Focusing her mind completely, she opened her eyes and placed her wand on the blonde one's forehead. _"Obliviate!" _she whispered, and felt a most peculiar sensation trickle down her arm. Almost as if water were streaming down her arm. Reassured, she turned to the one with the twisted face, Dolohov, if she remembered correctly, and did the same thing.

"Done, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly from beside her. Hermione jumped, startled.

"Yeah, done. What now?"

Harry looked around at the recently restored café. It was still a dingy little diner, but it no longer looked as if it had been bombed. "Now, we leave. Quickly."

Hermione nodded her consent and they all three exited hastily, slipping unobtrusively back onto the quietened street. The street lights were flickering, and the obnoxious men that had called at Hermione earlier were hassling another girl. Ron was lagging behind, struggling to pull the Deluminator from his pocket to replace the light in the café.

"No wonder it was so bleeding hard to get my wand out, Hermione; you packed my old jeans. They're really tight."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Ron, really. But I'm sure the extra definition won't hurt your chances with the ladies."

Ron blushed and Harry laughed loudly, covering his mouth to try and muffle the sounds.

"Shove off," Ron muttered. His ears were red. Hermione smiled and patted his arm.

"Oh, Ronald. Come on, we need to keep moving."

They continued their brisk pace down the dark road, passing quickly under the street lights. No one spoke; all were too caught up in their thoughts.

Hermione's continuously wandered back to one moment, with one boy.

She knew, without a single doubt, that she wanted Cedric. Forever, if she could help it. Being his wife would make her happier than she could imagine. She could spend each and every day with him, fall asleep with him, wake up to his gorgeous face. She could grow old with him, have children with him, experience everything worth experiencing with him. But she also knew that she might not make it through this journey. She knew that Cedric wasn't ready to become a widow, especially at nineteen. This knowledge, mixed with her extreme surprise, had made the words she so desperately wanted to say disappear in a flash.

The hurt in his grey eyes had been quick in passing, but Hermione still ached when she thought about it. She hated to be the cause of his pain. But she couldn't do it; she couldn't say yes to something she may not be alive for to follow through with.

But one thought kept plaguing her mind: When would she get to see him again? When could she explain her answer, tell him why she had to say no? She couldn't leave him like this. But she couldn't go back.

Harry's soft voice broke through her thoughts. "I think we should go to Grimmauld Place."

She and Ron came to a halt and stared at him. Ron spoke first.

"Are you mad, mate? Snape can get in there!"

Harry shook his head. "Your dad told me they put jinxes up against him; it'll be fine. And even if it's not," he continued, raising his voice to drown out Hermione's protests, "I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape."

The chill in his voice made Hermione shiver.

"Harry, I…I don't know. What if—"

"Hermione, where else is there? We've already been attacked, and we've been on the run for all of…what. Two hours?"

Hermione shrugged. "I know, but…Grimmauld Place? What if it's not safe?"

Harry shook his head. "It'll be fine. Hermione, come on. Where else will we go?"

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Come on, grab my arm."

Harry grabbed her shoulder as Ron latched onto her hand, and suddenly they found themselves in the uncomfortable tube of apparition.

With a 'crack,' they arrived on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. Glancing furtively around, they surmised their inconspicuousness and Harry gently tapped his wand on the door. A series of clicks sounded before the heavy door swung open.

The trio stepped cautiously inside. The door swung shut behind them with a 'clang.' Ron glanced quickly behind them before turning back around.

"Do…do you reckon it's safe?" He muttered, nudging Hermione. She glanced around and shuddered.

"I hope so." As she spoke, the old-fashioned oil lamps spluttered to life. The eerie light illuminated the previously dark hallway. Hermione shuddered again as her eyes focused on the mounted House Elf heads. As she peered into the hallway, a large shape to her left caught her eye. The troll leg umbrella stand was upturned, and the dust was kicked up around it.

"I think someone's been here," she whispered to the boys. She pointed towards it, trying to keep her hand from quivering.

"No, that probably happened as the Order left," Ron told her. "So where are these jinxes against Snape?"

Harry shrugged and stepped forward. Suddenly, Hermione's tongue rolled up tightly and clung to the roof of her mouth. She gagged slightly and looked to Ron and Harry, who both had looks of extreme discomfort on their faces. She assumed the same had happened to them.

At the end of the hallway, a swirling dust figure appeared, looming closer and closer. Hermione wanted to scream, but she couldn't make the sound. Ron grabbed her hand tightly and she pressed her side into his.

Harry stared at the dust figure in horror, his mouth open in shock. When it spoke, Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed heavily.

"It wasn't us!" he cried, "We didn't kill you!"

The dust figure exploded, coating them all in a thick layer of filth. Hermione grimaced and shook out her hair. There was a foul amount of dust in her mouth.

"Blegh," she spat. Ron chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

"That," she announced, "is completely foul."

Harry nodded, wiping his glasses on his t-shirt. It did no good, and he sighed and muttered a cleaning spell with his wand. "Well, should we go have a look?"

"Wait," Hermione said. She pulled out her wand and said clearly, "_Homenum revelio."_

A blue light ignited at the end of Hermione's wand, and she sucked in a breath. "Someone's here," she whispered. Harry and Ron stopped in their tracks and turned to stare at her.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, raising his wand.

Hermione nodded, licking her lips.

"Stay here," he told them both, advancing slowly. Ron scoffed and followed, as did Hermione. Harry turned to glare at them before continuing. "I said _stay_," he muttered.

They moved cautiously into the kitchen, wands raised the entire time. Harry peered around the corner, leading with his wand. A red light flashed by his face.

"Bloody hell!" cursed a husky, deep voice. Hermione's stomach swooped.

Harry raised his head and his wand, narrowing his eyes. He took another step forward, wand pointed at the intruder. "Who are you!" He demanded.

"Who am I?" asked the voice in disbelief, "Harry, mate, it's me! It's Cedric!"

* * *

_ehwhat! Harro Cedric. So, what do you think? Let me know! And once again, I am SORRY._

_LISTEN TO THE SONG YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE.  
(ps all songs I use are recorded on my profile in the story progress blurb thing.)_

_Ruv Jasper._


	6. Chapter 5

_So. No amount of groveling will earn forgiveness for this atrociously delayed update. I'm SORRY. I was away/had stuff to deal with/didn't want to write.../shut up none of this gets the chapter up faster. Apologies all around. And sorry if it's really boring; it needs to progress, see? woo...Heyo! the title is a song by Robert Pattinson. Perhaps next chapter won't be a song title. probably not going to happen._

_Read on, readers! and REVIEW please. It does make me smile._

* * *

Chapter 5  
_Let Me Sign_

Hermione was hardly ever at a loss for words. She was the brightest witch of her generation, with a plethora of words stored in her fantastical brain for her disposal. She had synonyms for even the most mundane words at the ready, and no pronunciation was ever off. She could rattle off hundreds of adjectives and not be hard-pressed to think of them. In grade school she had competed in a city-wide spelling bee, years four to nine, and won. She had been year three. She was as good, if not better, as a pocket dictionary and thesaurus put together.

So the fact that she had indeed been rendered speechless twice in the past few hours was startling, to say the least.

"Cedric?" Harry still had his wand raised, pointed at the intruder in the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and his eyebrows were well into his hairline.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Cedric?" Ron asked, his voice rougher than was necessary. He raised his wand higher and stood beside Harry in the doorway, spitting out a mouthful of dust.

Hermione heard Cedric sigh, and she could just imagine him running a large hand through his messy hair as he tried to arrange his thoughts. She heard heavy footsteps, and surmised that Cedric had stepped forward to speak more civilly with the two boys.

"Don't move!" Harry bellowed, tensing immediately. Hermione flinched at the tone he used. It was usually directed at much more deserving characters, like Death Eaters, and Snape.

"Harry, you tosser, it's me!" Cedric replied, indignation colouring his tone. "Now put down your bleeding wand."

Harry scowled at Cedric; Hermione could see the corner of his mouth turn down angrily. "Hermione, come here please," he beckoned, jerking his head to the side to indicate where he meant.

Hermione swallowed and obliged, her wand dangling at her side.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, keep your wand ready!" he hissed in her ear. She rolled her eyes and took her place in between him and Ron. She still had yet to speak.

"Mya," Cedric breathed. Hermione's eyes instantly sought him out. He looked distinctly ruffled, yet gloriously so. His grey eyes were shining and Hermione felt herself melt a bit. His usually messy hair was now at a whole new level, standing up in peaks in every direction. One large hand now reached up and tugged at a wayward strand above his right ear as his teeth pulled his bottom lip into his mouth.

"Okay, 'Cedric,'" Harry said coolly, "If you are Cedric, you'll know this: what was Hermione's childhood pet, and what was its name?" Harry cocked his head to the side, questioning. Cedric snorted and ran a hand through his hair again.

"Oh come on. It was a gold fish name Elliot." He shot a grin at Hermione and rolled his eyes again. "Do you believe me now?"

Ron glared at him, his jaw tight. "No," he growled. Hermione sighed, opening her mouth to utter her first words since she had heard his voice.

"Don't be a prat, Ron. He's wearing the flaming ring; it's him." She waved her hand in the direction of Cedric's hand, the twin of the aforementioned ring glinting on her finger.

Ron and Harry's eyes followed her hand's motion, coming to rest on the ring. Harry narrowed his eyes and Ron harrumphed. "Hmm," Harry contemplated. "Hey, 'Cedric,' what does Hermione's ring say?"

Hermione huffed again and swatted Harry's arm. "Stop," she scolded. "Cedric, come here, please," she added in a softer tone. He gave her a small smile and loped forward gracefully. Harry and Ron tensed again, but Hermione ignored them. She only had eyes for the ridiculously amazing man in front of her. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest and inhaling deeply.

"How did you know where we'd be?" she asked him. Cedric didn't answer right away, instead pushing his nose into her hair and letting his fingers tug gently at the loose strands.

"I honestly had no bloody clue where you lot had gone to," he told her. She could feel the warmth of his breath satiate the skin on her neck. It made her shiver.

Hermione pulled back reluctantly to look at him. "If you had no idea, then why come here?" She reached up her hand and brushed a piece of lint from his shoulder.

"I didn't know where I was going; I sort of just let it happen." At Hermione's quizzical look, he elaborated. "Okay, look. When you apparated away, I had no clue where you had gone. And Death Eaters were popping up everywhere, yeah? And I was panicking, because hey, my life just disappeared," Ron snorted quietly, and Cedric shot him a glare before continuing, "and I couldn't see anyone I recognised, because everything was happening so fast. And I remember wishing I knew where you were, because that would make this all a hell of a lot easier. And then my finger started glowing." He held up his right hand and extended his ring finger, where the ring given to him by his mother resided. "And I look, and the ring is this bright blue. And without thinking, I just spin on the spot and picture your face, and bam! Here I am." He shrugged, breaking his gaze from Hermione to look at the two boys.

"I told you those rings were mental," Ron muttered, shaking his head. Hermione laughed, leaning into Cedric's chest again. His chest rumbled as he began to laugh, too, and soon the kitchen was filled with amused chuckles.

"But seriously, though," Hermione began, gaining her breath first, "What else do these mental things do? Your mother never explained, and neither did your father. And there's very little on them in the Hogwarts Library, which is most disappointing." Her shoulders slumped as she thought of how the library had failed her.

"No idea. But it was helpful in this case," Cedric replied, pushing her hair to the side to expose her neck. He ran a long finger along her jaw line, tracing her ear before trailing down her neck. Hermione's breathing hitched and she shot him a look, but he just grinned and continued the circuit.

Harry cleared his throat, looking a bit awkward, and Hermione blushed. She nudged Cedric's chest and gave him another glare, which he returned with a grin before finally dropping his hand and wrapping an arm around her waist to tug her into his side.

"So, you lot, now that I'm here…" Cedric trailed off, looking at them all pointedly.

Ron frowned. "Now that you're here…?" He repeated with a raised brow.

Cedric smirked at him. "Now that I'm here, wouldn't it make more sense for me to _stay _here?"

A strange sort of choking noise came from Hermione. She pulled herself from his hold and stared at him, mouth agape.

"No!" she reported, shaking her head furiously. "No Cedric, you fool! I've told you time and time again, this is something we have to do."

Cedric frowned at her, the crease between his eyes becoming more pronounced. "So let me help you," he suggested softly, reaching for her again.

"Cedric, it's really not the best idea. There's years of information you have yet to learn, and we have to do this _now."_ Harry spoke with authority, his piercing green eyes pleading with Cedric.

Cedric's hopeful face fell, and Hermione was instantly reliving the horrendous proposal. "Cedric, love, look at me." She grabbed his chin in her thin hand and raised his face to hers. "Believe me when I say I wouldn't want anything more than for you to come with me." Cedric slowly met her gaze, his brow still furrowed. Hermione's hand dropped from his chin onto his lean neck, her fingers fiddling with the ends of his hair.

"But it's too dangerous, Ced. I can't lose you; not like that. Please," she pleaded, her amber eyes filling with tears.

Cedric's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to form the right words. "Mya," he whispered, so softly she had to lean closer to hear, "_I _can't lose you. In any way. Stay with me." His grey eyes were sparkling, and Hermione let out a shuddery breath before tugging him into a hug, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his long arms around her, his fingers grasping at the fabric of her dress she still wore. He never wanted to let go.

Ron and Harry stood in the doorway still, awkwardly watching their display. Ron shuffled his feet and tried to avert his eyes, and Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. He turned to look at Ron.

"I hate this," he informed the blushing Ron. "I should be doing this alone; that way none of you have to leave the people you love." He ran a hand through his tangled hair, sighing heavily.

Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You, Harry, are an idiot." Harry looked up sharply, offended. Ron laughed a little before continuing. "If you honestly believe what you just said to be true, then I don't know why Hermione and I have been wasting our time for the past six years."

Harry looked confused. He fingered his wand anxiously and shot another look at Hermione and Cedric, who were still wrapped up in each other.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry admitted. Ron ran a hand over his face.

"Okay, look, this is a bit too girly for me to say alone. I need the help of a female." He turned to the couple in the middle of the kitchen and coughed obnoxiously. Harry hit him in the shoulder.

"Ow. Unnecessary, Harry," Ron grumbled, before addressing the other two. "Sorry, Hermione, but Harry is being a wanker and I need to you help me say some girly things." He shrugged and scratched his nose.

Hermione let out a watery chuckle and wiped at her eyes. She looked up at Cedric and gave him a small smile, wrapping her thin fingers around his hand and tugging him with her. "Alright," she said, taking a deep breath, "what girly things must you say?"

Ron nodded and motioned to Harry. "This fool seems to think that if he goes on this mad excursion alone, none of us will have to leave the people we love." Harry nodded along and Hermione looked at him, baffled.

"What?" she asked, staring at him. Harry began to get uncomfortable, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Harry, do you really think that?" she wanted to know. Harry looked up at her, bemused.

"Yes."

Cedric let out a disbelieving laugh. "You, sir, are thick. These two have stuck with you for Merlin knows how long, through whatever mental stunts you've gotten into, saving your arse plenty of times, and you think that if you go alone they won't lose someone they love?"

A look of understanding crossed Harry's face. His mouth opened and he muttered, "Oh."

Ron snorted and slapped Harry's shoulder. "Should've known Pretty Boy Diggory would be able to say something so poncey. Thanks, mate."

Cedric glared at him half-heartedly. "Shove it, Weasley," he muttered. Hermione squeezed his hand.

"You _are _pretty," she murmured. Ron guffawed loudly, and once again the kitchen was filled with laughter.

--

Hermione and Cedric sat on the couch in the living room, her feet in his lap and her head on the arm rest. Cedric had his hands resting on her shins, absently running his fingers up and down the length of her calf. They were both deep in thought, the familiar crease forming in between Cedric's brow while Hermione's nose crinkled slightly. They had been sitting in silence since they had left the kitchen, where Ron and Harry had tried to make food.

Cedric was the one to break it. "Mya," he whispered. His voice made her jump. "Sorry," he murmured, "I'm sorry."

Hermione knew he wasn't just talking about scaring her. "I know, Ced. I am, too." She reached a hand out, searching, and Cedric's hand came to meet hers. He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. "But you understand now?" She had to ask.

Cedric let out a gusty sigh and shut his eyes. He wished he didn't, but he knew he couldn't lie. "Yes," he told her, dropping his head back and staring at the ceiling.

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, love," she whispered. They fell into a silence once more, only the crackling fire making any noise.

Cedric didn't move for a long time, his fingers still wrapped loosely with Hermione's. The fire cast shadows across his figure, and Hermione stared, watching the fire dance across his features. Her mind was whirling, and Cedric was in the centre.

Although he had said he understood, Hermione knew there was still one thing that was nagging at him. She had said no. He didn't understand; not yet, anyways. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, subconsciously matching her own breathing to his. She didn't know how long they sat that way, breathing together in the silence, but she knew it wasn't long enough. It never was.

--

Hermione was freezing. She awoke, shivering, and groped for her blanket that had no doubt fallen off during the night. She found no such blanket. Unsteadily, she pushed herself up and felt around the couch, and instead found a handsome young man sprawled messily over the cushions, his head still resting on the back of the couch. With a smile, she pushed herself up and crawled onto his lap, tucking her face into his neck and wrapping her arms around his middle. He groaned and raised his head, peering blearily at her.

"Mya?" he grumbled, his voice scratchy. He rubbed at his eyes with his fists. She smiled at the endearing gesture before replying.

"Hi. I was cold." She snuggled closer. Cedric nodded and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"Good night," he muttered. Hermione chuckled and kissed his throat. He shivered slightly and Hermione kissed her way up his neck to his jaw, trailing kisses along his strong jaw line. He groaned again, though this time the sound was much different.

"Mya," he said in his rough voice. Hermione hummed into the hollow beneath his ear. His grip tightened around her waist as she grazed his earlobe with her teeth, and she smiled against him.

"Yes, love?" she whispered into his ear. He ran one hand up her side slowly, feeling all of her.

"Oh, nothing. Carry on," he said, smiling. Hermione laughed softly and lifted herself up, placing her knees on either side of his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his head, tangling them in his hair and pulling slightly. Cedric groaned again, his hands gripping her waist. The floaty material of her dress didn't give him much purchase, and he glared at it.

"What's the matter, Ced," Hermione whispered, smiling at the frustrated look on his face.

He continued glaring at the dress as he answered, "You look incredible in this dress, Mya, but right now, it is getting on my nerves." He fingered the material, still glaring. "This would be so much easier if it wasn't all silky," he informed her.

Hermione considered his words. A mischievous glint came into her eye, and she grinned at Cedric. She leaned in closely and whispered in his ear. "Wouldn't it be even easier if the dress was…off?" she asked, nipping his earlobe. Cedric's breath caught and he blinked before looking into Hermione's eyes.

"Well, one would assume, yes…" he mumbled, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. Hermione grinned wider and directed his large hands to the zipper on the side. Cedric swallowed and grasped the little piece of metal, pulling it down slowly. Hermione continued her hair-tugging, her finger nails scraping lightly the skin on his scalp. The floaty dress pooled around her hips as Cedric stared at her pale skin, the firelight giving it an ethereal glow.

His eyes left burning trails as they glorified her body, and Hermione was on fire by the time his eyes met hers. "Cedric," she breathed, leaning forward and crushing her lips to his. He responded eagerly, his lips crashing into hers as his hands roamed her skin.

She slipped her hands into his dress robes and slipped them off his shoulders. He shook them off quickly, not letting too much time pass without touching her. Her cold fingers unbuttoned his shirt slowly, her lips kissing each inch of skin as it was exposed to her. Cedric's head fell back and his hands dropped to her waist.

He pulled the shirt off completely and Hermione's cold hands wasted no time in exploring him. He flinched at the initial touch, goosebumps breaking out over his torso, but Hermione kissed him too hard for him to care about anything else. His hands ghosted over her back, her hair tickling his neck. He sighed and pulled her closer, relishing in the feel of her skin pressed so closely to his.

Hermione's heart was pounding, her blood pumping furiously. She wanted nothing more than this moment, especially as it was the last one she would have with him before she left. And he needed to know that, if given the undeniable fact that she'd be alive, she would marry him in a heartbeat. He needed to know that she loved him. And what better way than to show him?

Cedric suddenly gripped her upper thighs tightly, and Hermione gasped. He grinned into her neck and lifted her up, standing and stepping away from the couch. He let go of her leg to reach back and grab at a blanket thrown over the back of the couch before using one arm to spread it out on the carpeted floor beneath them. Hermione clutched at his shoulders, feeling them flex under her hands with every movement. He turned his face to give her a grin before lowering them both to the floor.

He hovered above her, the muscles in his back taut. Hermione ran her hands across his skin, pressing him closer. Cedric's lips trailed kisses from her jaw to her chest and back again, making her stomach fluttery. She tangled her hands in his hair and raised his face to hers. He stared into her eyes, his dark and wanting.

"I love you," she promised, meeting his gaze levelly. Cedric nodded, kissing her softly on the lips.

"More than anything," he whispered against her skin, his teeth grazing her bottom lip. He kissed her hard, pressing himself into her, wanting to feel all of her against all of him. He felt one of her little hands leave his hair and run down his back, her nails lightly scratching in a way that was making him shiver. Her thin hand pressed into his lower back before her fingers dipped into the waistband of his trousers. His breathing hitched as her other hand left his hair and joined the first, before slipping to the front and fiddling with the button. Cedric pulled back and opened his eyes, lifting a hand from the ground to push the hair off her face.

"Mya?" he whispered in a question, his eyes boring into hers with the weight of their actions.

"Cedric," she returned, smirking slightly. Cedric chuckled softly before speaking again.

"Are you sure, Mya?" He wanted this, he wanted her, forever. He was pretty certain the whole proposal implied such things. But if she didn't want to marry him, would she want him in every way he could give? He looked into her amber eyes and found himself back in the Hogwarts library, in his Yule Ball dress robes, staring at the slight girl in the straight-backed chair in wonder. She had been perfect then, and she was still perfect now. And he wanted her to be his.

"Yes, Cedric," she assured him, kissing the corner of his lip so softly it felt like the wind. She raised her hands between them and rested her right one on his chest, above his heart. He could feel the cool metal of her ring and he lifted his hand to place it on top of hers. "I'm sure. I'm more sure of you than I am of myself."

Cedric smiled at her words and leaned down to press his lips to hers. He felt her left hand reach down and unbutton his trousers, and he kicked them off. Her dress pooled at their feet as she kissed his collarbone, keeping her right hand pressed against his heart. He opened his eyes and met her gaze.

"You're the only thing keeping it beating, Mya."

--

The embers of the fire were barely glowing anymore. Cedric opened his eyes groggily and looked around, disoriented. A single ray of sunlight was spilling into the living room through the dirty window panes, illuminating the floor he currently lay upon. Hermione was no longer with him.

He shot up as this realisation took hold, searching the room with his tired eyes. "Mya?" He called sleepily. He heard a low murmur in the kitchen, so he reached for his boxers and pulled them on before standing up and padding over to the closed door, grabbing his wand from his dress robes on the way.

He stumbled over the edge of the carpet before he reached the closed door, and he flung his arm out to stop himself from hitting the door face-first. The door swung open and he tripped clumsily into the kitchen, startling its three occupants.

"Merlin, Cedric, you prat!" Hermione cried, "I nearly had a heart attack!"

Cedric blushed and grinned apologetically. "Sorry, love," he said, his voice still rough from lack of use. She smiled at him, her pulse still thrumming loudly in her ears.

"So what are you lot doing?" He wanted to know. The trio exchanged looks before turning to him. They all looked very grave; Harry's eyes looked too old and Ron's jaw was tight. Hermione's brows were furrowed and her bottom lip was in her mouth.

"Last night…" Hermione began, and Cedric was immediately taken back to him and Hermione on the blanket, the fire making her pale skin glow faint orange. He shook his head and tried to focus. "…Ron's dad, saying they're being watched. We assume he means by the Death Eaters, because, as we know, the Ministry is now under their control." Hermione bit her lip and looked down, casting a side-ways glance at Harry. He nodded slightly, and she continued. "Also, Harry…saw into Voldemort's mind again. He's angry, Ced; really angry."

Ron snorted. "Angry? Hermione, he's right well pissed. And we still don't know how those Death Eaters found us yesterday." A frown pulled the corners of Ron's lips down.

Cedric looked up sharply. "Death Eaters?" he said harshly. "_Death Eaters _found you?" He was speaking to Hermione, but it was Ron who answered.

"Yes," he answered, glaring at Cedric and the tone he was using with Hermione. "Harry saw one of them getting punished."

Cedric gaped at the three of them. "They found you? Where the bloody hell were you?"

Hermione rubbed her nose as she replied. "Tottenham Court Road."

Cedric shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You were in _muggle _London. How…fuck." He began pacing, his hand still tangled in his hair. He stopped abruptly and turned to Hermione. "And you neglected to tell me this _why?_"

Hermione shrugged. "Having you suddenly appear sort of pushed it to the back of my mind, I suppose."

Cedric shook his head before resuming his pacing. "Harry," he said, sparing the black-haired boy a glance, "you don't suppose you still have the trace on you, yeah? I mean, you just turned seventeen, and Voldemort does have control over the Ministry now…"

Harry gawped at him, stilling completely. "You don't think that's possible, do you?"

Cedric shrugged. "I have no idea."

Ron shook his head and turned to Harry. "Don't worry, mate, you're fine. They must've found us some other way. They can't keep a trace on a wizard who's of age."

Harry still looked uncertain. He rubbed the back of his neck and spoke to the room as a whole. "If the trace is still on me, then I should do this…alone. I can't put you two in more danger than I already have."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, we've had this conversation a million times. We're staying. Besides, we're already on the run with Britain's Most Wanted. How much more danger could we be put in?"

Cedric felt as if someone squeezed all the air from his lungs.

"Yeah, mate. Plus, if we weren't with you, how would you get out of half the things you get into? Riddle me that, Potter." Ron smirked at him, nudging his shoulder. Harry laughed and rolled his eyes, though he still looked troubled.

Cedric still had yet to breathe. Hermione broke away from the two boys and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Breathe, love," she reminded him. "You already knew this would be dangerous."

Cedric tried to do as she said. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air and engulfing her slight frame in his arms. "I know. It just…I know."

"So what do we do?" Ron asked, his hands in his pockets.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well…I was thinking we could go to…to Godric's Hollow."

Hermione sighed softly and looked up at Cedric. Her eyes were sad as she fixed her gaze on Harry's face. "Harry," she began, "I'm not certain that's the best idea. Your parents are buried there—don't you think that's somewhere they'll be expecting you?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. "I suppose you're right. But I reckon it'd be good to speak to Bathilda Bagshot, don't you think?"

Ron nodded slowly, but Hermione shook her head. "Why not, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled sadly at him, understanding plain in her eyes. He looked away, turning to the table.

"I'm hungry. Let's find something to eat."

Ron and Cedric readily agreed, and Hermione nodded. "I've to use the loo, I'll be right back," she told them, kissing Cedric's cheek and heading up the stairs.

The stairs creaked underneath her, and dust coated her hand when she ran it along the banister. On the second landing she found the loo, and, after washing her hands, she glanced curiously up the next flight of stairs. She was tempted to continue up, to find out what else was in this house. A quick decision settled it for her, and she headed up the stairs.

On the topmost landing there were two doors. Hermione went to the one with a small sign pasted to the door and read it to herself, mouthing the words.

"_Do not enter without the express permission of Regulus Arcturus Black."_

Hermione reached out and traced the letters with her fingers, mouthing the name again. This must've been Sirius' younger brother; the one that joined Voldemort. Her fingers continued tracing the words, and a slight stirring could be felt in her stomach.

"Regulus Arcturus Black…" she muttered. Everything in her mind fell into place, and she dropped her tracing fingers suddenly. "Bloody hell…Harry! Harry, get up here!"

She heard pounding footsteps and muttered swears as the boys raced up the stairs. Harry's head appeared first, followed by Cedric's messy mop and finally Ron. Cedric pushed Harry out of the way and hurried to Hermione, his eyes scanning the landing.

"What is it?" Harry asked breathlessly. Cedric wrapped his fingers through Hermione's and squeezed. She raised her free hand and pointed wordlessly at the sign pasted to the door.

"A sign? Oh that's super, Hermione. Give me a sodding heart attack, for Merlin's sake," Ron grumbled, exasperation colouring his tone.

Hermione shot him a look. "Not _just _a sign, Ronald. Look at the name."

Harry got there first. "Regulus Arcturus…R.A.B. R.A.B! Good Merlin, you found R.A.B!" Harry grabbed Hermione up in a hug and swung her around, lifting her feet off the ground. Ron gave a whoop and clapped Harry on the back once he released Hermione, grinning like mad.

"How fantastic is this?" he exclaimed. Hermione couldn't help but agree. Only Cedric wasn't grinning from ear to ear.

"I don't mean to be a killjoy, but who is R.A.B?"

Hermione turned to him and explained. "In June, Harry went with Dumbledore to retrieve something, but they got a fake that had a note inside it, saying a one R.A.B had the real thing. And now, we know who it was, and possibly where it is." She still had a giddy smile on her face.

"Oh, that's fantastic!" He replied, high-fiving her. She smiled wider and nodded her head.

"So what do you reckon? Should we chance a search?" Ron asked, nodding towards the door.

"'Course," Harry scoffed. "It'd be foolish not to." He reached for the door and found it to be locked. "Bollocks," he muttered.

Hermione nudged him aside. "_Alohomora."_

It swung open, revealing a painfully tidy room. They all stood in the doorway silently, before Harry stepped forward slowly and began searching. For the next few hours, the four of them tore apart the house bit by bit, finding absolutely nothing.

"Bugger," Ron cursed, wiping dust from his trousers and frowning. "This is hopeless."

Hermione shook her head. "I know it has to be here somewhere. This house was full of junk, do you remember? We cleaned it all out; that horrid cabinet in the dining room with that wart cap powder and that evil music box and that…that…" Hermione stopped talking, her mouth remaining open and her arms still raised.

"Locket," she finished, her eyes wide and unfocused.

"What was that?" Harry asked quickly.

"The locket. That no one could open? And we threw it in the rubbish with everything else…"

Ron cursed loudly. Cedric dropped his head back and groaned. Harry, however, had a calculating look on his face.

"Kreacher."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"Kreacher stole loads of stuff back…maybe…maybe he took the locket?"

Hermione's face lit up. "Brilliant," she muttered, clasping her hands together. "Call him, Harry."

Harry nodded and spoke clearly. "Kreacher, come here."

A sharp crack echoed through the kitchen, where they had ended up in their search.

"Master called?" Kreacher croaked, glaring witheringly at them all, except Cedric. "Master Diggory," he spoke in a much more civil tone. "What is Kreacher doing for you?"

Cedric looked taken-aback. "I—I beg your pardon?"

Kreacher bowed low, his crumpled nose brushing the hard floor. "Mistress would be so pleased, Master Diggory in her home, such a good family, strong, pure. And so handsome, yes, mistress would be pleased."

Cedric stared at the elf, bemused. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all exchanged looks. Harry shrugged and addressed the elf.

"Kreacher," he demanded, "Two years ago there was a big golden locket that we threw away. Did you grab it?"

Kreacher reluctantly tore his adoring gaze from Cedric's face to answer Harry. His voice had lost its fervour, and instead dripped with disdain. "Yes."

Hermione's heart leapt. She exchanged excited looks with them all before Harry continued his questioning.

"Do you still have it?"

Kreacher looked as if someone had squeezed him round the throat. His eyes bulged and his mouth sagged, and he struggled to breathe. With great effort, he replied, "Gone."

"Where?" Harry asked fiercly. "Kreacher, tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it."

--

Hermione still had tears in her eyes. Kreacher's tale was heartbreaking, and it made her S.P.E.W campaign that much more important. And despite the terrible tragedy the story was, it was also very enlightening. They found out more than they could've hoped, such as the fact that Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket. Kreacher was now on a quest to find Mundungus, and Hermione had faith that he'd find him.

It had been two days since they sent Kreacher on his task. Hermione was getting restless, and the fact that she hadn't been outside in ages didn't help. At noon on the second day, Hermione was trying to put together something resembling a meal while Cedric read the newspaper. He was staying with them until they actually left for their fantastical journey; it was an unspoken understanding.

Suddenly Hermione threw the knife down and whirled around to face Cedric. "Let's go out," she suggested. "We can get food, a recent paper, the works. And we'll have Harry's cloak. Please?"

Cedric readily agreed, nodding quickly. "I'll ask Harry for the Cloak," he called as he bounded out of the room. Hermione smiled and went back to the pitiful sandwiches, vanishing them with her wand.

Cedric leapt back into the room with the Cloak over his arm. "Ta da!" he announced, waving it around. Hermione laughed and hurried forward, grabbing it.

"Finally. Let's go, hurry, before I go mental."

They hurried out to the front door, apparating right off the doorstep. They had to be even more careful, for cloaked figures had begun lurking in the courtyard. They spun uncomfortably for a moment, before emerging in a grubby alley-way with a 'crack!' Hermione stumbled and braced herself against the brick wall before covering herself with the Cloak again.

"Merlin, it's nice to get out of that house," she muttered in Cedric's ear. He grinned and nodded.

"I know, and we don't have Voldemort's minions lurking about outside our house, either."

Hermione smiled and kissed his shoulder as they began to make their way out of the alley-way. A sudden whirling wind behind them made Hermione's stomach clench, and she slowly reached for her wand, Cedric doing the same.

They turned at the same time, and came face-to-face with five cloaked Death Eaters.

"Shit," Cedric breathed, his knuckles whitening on his wand. Hermione swallowed and nodded, her amber eyes narrowing at the hulking figures.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" called one of the Death Eaters, his raspy voice grating against Hermione's eardrums. The others chuckled, and she rolled her eyes.

"Slowly back away," she breathed in his ear. He nodded and grabbed the back of her shirt, backing out of the alley at a painfully slow speed. The Death Eaters stumbled around the alley, waving their arms into corners and dark spaces, trying to find purchase on a Cloak they couldn't see.

"Where the bleedin' 'ell could they 'ave gone?" one, a beastly black-haired bloke with a scar running the length of his face, bellowed.

"Not a clue, but they can't've gone far; I smell them." The speaker raised his long, yellowing nails and picked his teeth, which were yellowing as well, and scratched at his scruffy facial hair.

"Oh, for Merlin's Sake, Jeyfril, do try and keep it down. We don't want to attract unwanted attention. And Greyback, that is disgusting," came a most familiar drawling voice.

"Don't tell me what to do, Lucius," snarled Jeyfril. Lucius sneered at him, his white teeth glinting.

"And don't you push me, Jeyfril."

Hermione shuddered. Even the sound of his voice made her skin crawl. She kept up the desperately slow pace, wanting nothing more than to be out of the alley. She was in such a rush, she didn't see the over-turned rubbish bin until it was too late, and she toppled over it, the Invisibility Cloak falling from her shoulders and fluttering around Cedric's ankles, leaving her completely uncovered.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" drawled Lucius. Hermione swallowed and scrambled to her feet, raising her wand.

_"Stupefy!"_

Jeyfril crumpled in a heap of black robes. Greyback snarled, and one of the men, a dark man with a medium build and short brown hair, sent a hex her way. She blocked it, and tried to retaliate with a body-bind curse. Lucius shot a bolt of blue light at her face, but she ducked and fired another hex at Greyback, who was advancing menacingly.

"Oh, but she does smell delicious," Greyback rasped, leering. Hermione glared at him and sent a stunning spell straight at his chest. It slowed him, but didn't knock him out.

"Shit," she muttered, whirling to shoot a jinx at the brown-haired Death Eater. Another hex hit her in the arm, and she hissed in pain.

"Doesn't feel nice, does it, mud-blood?" Lucius smirked. Hermione ignored him and shot another body-bind curse at a slight blonde Death Eater. It hit its mark, and he fell to the pavement.

Greyback was much closer than Hermione ever wanted him, and she turned to curse him. She could feel his hot, rank breath on her skin as he grinned dangerously at her. He raised his wand, but Hermione hit it out of his hand with her own, before shooting another curse at him. For some reason, the spells didn't have the same affect on the werewolf, and he kept advancing.

"She will taste so delicious," he croaked, dousing Hermione in his horrid breath. The brown-haired Death Eater laughed, and Lucius sighed.

"Greyback, she's on the run with Harry Potter; I assume she could be much more useful, don't you?"

Hermione didn't dare take her eyes off Greyback, yet she could hear the other two getting closer. Recklessly, she whirled and shot a spell at the brown-haired one, slowing him considerably.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greyback lunge, and had just enough time to spin and raise her wand before his teeth were sinking into her arm and his nails were scratching her skin. She flew backward, and the last thing she saw before cracking her head on the pavement was the bloody smile of the werewolf.

* * *

_dun dun DUN. werewolf attack! and a really lame sex scene? AND a heinously late update!? I think I spoil you. haha..lies..._

_hit or miss, my reading readers? let me knowsign. haha oh no. _

_have a swell day/night/evening/morning!_

_RUV JASPER._

_(I'm sorry)_


	7. Author's Note

**THIS ISN'T A CHAPTER. (surprise)**

I apologise about the whole "just kidding" chapter. I realise I've been super-crap at updating; I've had a lot of shenanigans to deal with. But hey that's lame let's cut to the chase.

So my boyfriend of 2 years has just died, and seeing as I was basing Cedric off of him, writing him isn't really what I want to be doing right now. He was shot trying to break up a fight.

I'm really sorry for promising you lot a story and instead giving you sporadic updates, then harsh ditching. I just can't deal with this all right now. _This story isn't abandoned_, it's just on hiatus until I manage to get my shit together. I've got a lot of shit to gather and organize, so...it may take a while.

Again, I'm sorry x 4.

love Jasper


	8. Chapter 6

_Hey hey. I'm sorry for the million-year wait. Back and ready for action. Mostly.  
The title is a song by Kleerup and Lykke Li. Listen._

* * *

Until We Bleed

Absolute terror didn't have a name. It didn't have a face, or a taste, or a shape. All it had was that all-consuming dread. It was capable of sucking even the strongest of men into its grip. It could pull them down and cloud their minds and make their hearts beat painful tattoos against their ribcages. It could cause the world to cease in its spin and make everyone lose their balance and send them all tumbling to their knees.

Or it could make them freeze in place, incapable of anything but watching.

-

Hermione and Greyback fell to the hard cement as if in slow motion. Cedric still stood stock-still, his wand raised and ready but his body incapable of responding to his screaming and frantic mind. He could see the blood pouring from her forearm, dripping into the werewolf's mouth. It painted his pointed teeth red.

All the sound had been muffled. It was as if he was underwater: he couldn't hear Malfoy laughing or the other three she managed to take down moaning, nor could he hear Greyback snarling or Hermione shouting curses. Everything had been shut off. Everything was surreal.

Cedric tore his eyes away from the grisly scene long enough to glare at his feet. He needed to move, now, but his body was still forgoing neurological triggers. He shut his eyes and willed his panicked feet to move.

The volume was suddenly cranked to full. Cedric could hear everything with devastating clarity: Greyback's delighted growls, Malfoy's malevolent chuckling, the splash of blood on the pavement as it dripped from her arm and chest, and an unearthly roar that he couldn't place. Deciding it didn't quite matter at the moment, Cedric raised his wand and shouted his curses and hexes with a brutal vehemence.

Lucius crumbled, blood staining his expensive robes as gashes appeared on his torso. Greyback looked around frantically, looking for the perpetrator, and, seeing no one, decided to aim his aggression at the girl beneath him. He opened his jaw wide and bit down on her shoulder, snarling into the flesh.

Cedric kicked out, connecting hard with the werewolf's ribs. A satisfying crunch met his newly-restored ears, but he had no time to dwell on the victory: he pointed his wand at the werewolf and shouted his curse. The werewolf stumbled back, howling. Cedric aimed and fired another, and another, until the werewolf finally fell to the ground in a heap, like the rest of his companions.

As the last of their attackers fell, Cedric heard the roar finally peter out, fading into a frantic whimper. With a start, he realised it was coming from him, but the copious amount of blood pouring from Hermione was much more concerning. He dropped hastily to his knees, his hands fluttering above her body. She was very badly wounded, this much he could tell. His panicked hands finally decided on a purpose, and he reached down to scoop up the bloody girl. He stood with the speed of a terrified man and spun on the spot, focusing all his sodding determination and dedication on the destination.

He very nearly toppled off the doorstep. The deadweight of Hermione in his arms threw him off balance as he appeared suddenly back at Grimmauld Place, but he quickly righted himself and banged the door with his wand, not caring about being discreet. The clicks and clangs of the latches were amplified, and the whole bloody process seemed to take ages.

Finally the door swung open, and he raced into the candle-lit entryway, kicking the door shut behind him and bellowing for Harry and Ron.

"Good Merlin, Cedric, is it really necessary to use such a deafening to—" Ron stopped his complaint as he stepped into the entryway and saw Cedric with Hermione.

"Ron, what's happ—bleeding Christ." Harry rushed to Cedric, helping him carry Hermione into the living room. They laid her out on the couch, Ron rushing to find Hermione's book on magical maladies and injuries.

"What the _hell_ happened, Cedric," Harry asked, staring at the blood staining the couch with great unease.

Cedric looked up at Harry, and Harry noticed for the first time just how young they all were.

Ron barrelled back into the room, a thick book in his hands and towels under his arms. "I got it, here," he said, thrusting the book at Harry and tossing the towels to Cedric. Harry took it from him and opened the large book, flipping the pages rapidly.

"Where…is…it…" Harry muttered to himself, his eyes moving swiftly over the text. "Shit. Shit shit shit—here. 'Healing cuts, abrasions, and lacerations.'"

Harry read it quickly, mouthing the words to himself. Cedric looked from him to Hermione and back again, his anxiety growing.

"Hurry up, for Merlin's bloody sake!" He shouted. Harry looked up at him, his green eyes sparkling.

"I am, Cedric. Just…put some pressure on the wounds. Try and stop the bleeding."

Cedric did as he said, taking deep breaths. Hermione was growing paler, her breath whispering past her lips. Blood was trickling down her neck, from where her head smacked the pavement. He took more deep breaths.

"Okay, okay, here we go." Harry raised his wand and held it over the wound on her forearm. He muttered the spell, his brow furrowed in concentration. Yellow light emanated from the tip of his wand, but the wounds stayed open and bleeding.

"Try again, Harry!" Ron urged, his blue eyes frenzied.

Harry nodded his head sharply, muttering the incantation again. The light was stronger, but the wounds still remained unhealed.

"Fuck. Shit. I-I don't know why it's not working, I…" Harry looked desperately at Hermione's paling face. "I don't know, I can't!"

Cedric glared at him. "Give me the book. I'll do it." He quickly read the passage, then muttered the spell, holding his wand steadily over Hermione's shoulder. The same yellow light glowed bright, but nothing happened. Cedric groaned and tried again, but still nothing. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging. "Please," he whispered, tears filling his eyes again. Cedric raised his wand and tried again. And he kept trying, and trying, and trying.

-

When she was a little girl, Hermione had often begged her mother to take her to the park. And on the occasions that her mother would give in, Hermione would squeal with delight and race off to the front door to slip on her trainers and wait impatiently for her mother to meet her. When she finally came, Hermione would grab her hand and pull her out the door, skipping and singing and swinging their clasped hands, filled with the joy only a child can feel.

They'd arrive at the park, and Hermione would grin up at her mother. She would smile back, and Hermione would drop her hand and race to the swings. The chains would always feel cold against her little hands, and the wooden seat would creak and groan. But Hermione would leap onto the swing and giggle gleefully, her little fingers wrapping around the chains and her little legs pumping furiously.

Eventually, the chains would warm and the wooden seat would stop protesting and her efforts would be recognized and suddenly she'd be flying.

The wind would brush her face and play with her curls and she'd push higher and higher. Her mum would smile at her from her place on the bench, and Hermione would laugh, and when she was feeling brave enough, she would let go of the chain and wave. And her mum would wave back and laugh and Hermione would keep flying.

As she had grown older, she had gone to the park less and less, until one day she just stopped altogether. She told herself she was too old for it, swings are for children and drunken teenagers and she was much too mature for that. But she couldn't help but miss the feel of the wind on her cheeks as her toes almost touched the clouds.

One day, during the summer of her third year at Hogwarts, Hermione decided it was a beautiful day to swing. She slipped her feet into her thongs and trekked to the park by her house, her anticipation growing until it was nearly palpable. She ran the last bit and threw herself onto the old swing, instantly wrapping her hands around the familiar chains and pumping her legs. The swing began to move and Hermione couldn't help but laugh with delight.

She flew higher and higher, until she could swear she saw the angels on the clouds and the stars in the sky. Her smile grew and grew and her laugh was filled with the kind of joy she had nearly forgotten.

And then the old wooden seat groaned and creaked, and Hermione's older hands slipped from the cold chains, and she tumbled out of the sky, her flailing hands waving good-bye to the angels in the clouds and the stars in the sky. And she hit the ground and the breath was forced out of her lungs and the smile slipped from her face and her laugh faded into the wind and she lost the moment of simple, child-like joy as she was jolted sharply back into the reality of the world.

Some things couldn't be restored.

-

"Why isn't it working?" Ron yelled, staring desperately at Cedric, "make it work!"

Cedric groaned louder and tried again. "Please!" he shouted, the tears making it hard to see.

Harry shook his head and looked to the ceiling. "We need more! We need to be better! Try _again_, Cedric!" He grabbed the older boy's shoulder and shook it.

Cedric nodded, once again pointing his wand at Hermione's bleeding shoulder. The yellow light appeared again, and again, not a wound was healed. Cedric moaned in agony and pointed his wand.

"Move," Ron grunted, his jaw tight. He tried, his face going red with strain.

"Pressure on the sodding wound, Cedric!" Harry shouted, pressing down on Cedric's limp hand.

"I know! Merlin, I know…please, Mya, wake up." He fixed his watery grey gaze on her face, noticing with great anxiety just how pale she'd gotten. Her dark eyelashes stood in stark relief against her pale and chalky skin.

"No. Wake up, Mya. Please," he pleaded, pressing harder on the slashes. The towels were almost soaked through, and Cedric's hands were stained with blood. "Please…"

Harry shouted in frustration and pointed his wand back at the wounds. Yellow light burst from his wand and bathed her in light. Cedric thought she looked like an angel.

"No!" Harry yelled, shouting the spell again. Cedric looked away, wondering if he said that out loud, then realised he didn't really care. He only wanted Mya to look at him again. He focused completely on her face, memorizing every freckle every scar every line every thing he could. He wiped blood from behind her ear and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Wake up, please, Mya," he whispered against her skin.

Behind him, Harry kept trying.

* * *

_Sorry it's short. Tell me what you think, team._

_lovelovelove Jasper. (as usual)_


	9. Chapter 7

_Hey there team. I know its been FOREVER (and then some) but here is chapter seven of the good ol' party time story.  
Title is _Hearts Collide_ by _Little Boots_, who is very cool. rep that shit. I have nothing more to say, so read on, reading readers. (if there are any left.)_

* * *

Hearts Collide

"Being a Diggory, son, means knowing when there are things worth fighting for. There are going to be many moments in your life when you're faced with a choice: to give up, or to keep on fighting. I trust that you will know which choice is the right choice to make, even if it's hard and painful and exhausting. Now, you're not always going to win, son, but it's not always the winning part that matters; you fight because you know, in your heart, it's the right thing to do. You know what's worth the fight. And you don't give up—not for anything."

Cedric couldn't take his eyes off of her pale face. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes had dark circles surrounding them and her eyelashes cast dark shadows across her face and he could hardly breathe. Hermione's breath whispered past her lips rhythmically, and Cedric decided this was where he'd focus. He would sit and stare and watch her lips and listen for the glorious sound of the whispered breaths and count his lucky bleeding stars every time that the breath came.

Harry sat on the armchair with his head in his hands. He couldn't look at her pale face. Everything felt wrong and twisted and cruel but he had no way to fix it. Hermione always did that. The book and his wand sat on the ground in front of him. Useless, they were, and Harry didn't want to touch them. So he sat on the armchair with his head in his hands. He breathed and he thought and he wished that Hermione would open her eyes, please, so he could let her know that he needed her.

Ron sat with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes weren't focusing on a single thing and he didn't even mind. He liked it. The vagueness that accompanied the unfocused was easier to swallow than the scenes that played vividly in his mind over and over. Ron didn't want to see Hermione bleeding all over the carpet and he didn't want to see Cedric cry and he didn't want to see Harry shout and curse and break. He didn't want to see it, so instead he stared vaguely and saw blurry images of the room around him.

Hermione was quite tired. She felt cold and bruised and alone, and she was tired but she couldn't sleep. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that was telling her she still had so much to do, there was no time for sleep, wake up now you have the whole world to save wake up. But she couldn't wake up. She was caught in the in-between, floating and sinking and asleep and awake. She wanted Cedric there. She wanted to wake up; she had so much to do still, so much to finish there was so much to do wake up sleepyhead there's no time to rest. But she couldn't. So Hermione stayed quietly in the in-between and wished silently that Cedric was there and that she was awake and busy saving the world like the nagging feeling in the back of her mind was telling her to do, instead of floating sinking in-between.

"Here." Ron handed Cedric a blanket, avoiding his eyes. Cedric nodded his thanks and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, tucking his chin under the fabric. It smelled old and musty. He sighed and reached a hand to Hermione, pushing a stray hair from her forehead.

"Wake up," he murmured. Hermione's eyes open slowly and she grins up at Cedric "hello love" she says and he smiles back and tells her "never do that again I was worried sick" and she nods and says "okay Cedric I love you" and he kisses her and he's warm and safe and she's kissing him back and they're so happy and

"This can't be happening." Harry's voice broke the heavy silence. He sat on the couch still, but his eyes had lifted from his knees to Hermione's limp body. They sparkled like jewels. Very sad jewels.

"I know, mate." Ron handed Harry a blanket, too. Harry took it with a tired nod and fixed his eyes back on Hermione. "It's so strange, her being the one in trouble. That never happens."

Cedric didn't want to hear them speak. He didn't want to listen to their words that meant nothing full of consonants and vowels and hurt. He only wanted Hermione to open her eyes and look at him again. That's all that's all.

"Yeah," Harry whispered, shutting his jewel-eyes and running his hands through his hair. "Yeah."

Ron stared at Hermione on the couch before turning around and squaring his shoulders. "Right, so I reckon we should start a fire. It gets pretty chilly in here at night."

No one answered, so Ron nodded to himself and went about starting a fire. His hands were busy and his eyes were unfocused and he pretended he was just fine. He hoped it would work.

The fire started crackling after a while, and Cedric turned his wan face to stare at the popping sparks. They were quite beautiful, the way they danced in the fireplace like little ballerinas. He watched a particularly lively spark pop from the flame and shoot into the dark chimney, before sputtering back down into the fire to start all over again. Hopefully the little spark would have another chance to dance up above the flames again.

The in-between was getting kind of lonely. Hermione wished she had some company, preferably Cedric and Harry and Ron. They could play exploding snap and tell raunchy jokes and drink Butterbeer. They could laugh and smile and talk. They could be happy, and she could be out of the in-between and into the right-now. Wouldn't that be nice, and maybe they could start a fire and sit around it telling stories and remembering the fun times they all had had at Hogwarts.

Hermione found herself wanting this so badly that it actually ached. She didn't know where it ached, because she couldn't feel her body. But she knew it ached, and that was enough. Please she wanted to wake up out of this in-between and be alive again. She had a whole lot to finish. Cedric's face floated into her in-between mind and she was a little warmer, although it was still cold and lonely and exhausting. Focusing her in-between energy on the picture in her in-between mind, Hermione floated and sank in the lonely cold tired in-between.

Weak sunlight trickled through the heavy curtains and settled directly in Cedric's face. The sudden explosion on his eyelids jerked him awake and he looked around, disorientated, before remembering what was what and who was who and what was happening. Then he frantically pushed himself up off the carpet and sat on his knees and stared at Hermione. He was relieved to find her still breathing her clandestine breaths. Leaning in close, he pressed his forehead against her hollow cheek and exhaled, his breath dewing on her skin. She breathed her secrets and he pressed against her and for a moment he felt at peace.

A loud crack from the kitchen easily shook off his moment of peace. Ron and Harry shot awake, all three grabbing their wands and pointing them towards the source of the noise. Harry pushed himself up slowly, never taking his eyes off of the door to the kitchen. He motioned to Ron to stay, which Ron scoffed at before following Harry. Cedric remained in front of Hermione with his wand held steady.

Harry looked to Ron quickly before nudging the door open with his wand. Kreacher stood in the middle of the kitchen with a dirty bundle of rags in his arms.

"Hello, Masters Potter and Weasley. Kreacher is backs with the dirty tramp Mundungus who is stealings the locket, yessirs." The dirty bundle of rags shouted a curse and struggled free of Kreacher's hold.

"Ya mangy scamp! What're ya doin', huh? I got places ta be, people ta see, don't I?" Mundungus shook his filthy head and shrugged his shoulders before finally looking around.

"I reckon you do, you little bastard." Harry grabbed Mundungus by the throat and pushed him against the wall. "Where's the locket, you bloody thief?"

Mundungus' eyes went wide and he spluttered out an answer. "Locket? W-what locket? Jeez, Harry, I didn't mean anythin' by it, I mean, a guy's gotta make a livin', don't he?"

Harry considered this. Then he decided he didn't much care. "Tell me where the sodding locket is, you useless wanker, before I get testy." He pressed his wand into Mundungus' throat.

"Hey, hey, hey! Harry, guy, don't let's get wild here! I-I'm sure we can figure this out, yeah?" Mundungus eyed the wand, his beady eyes full of fear. He swallowed heavily.

"Yes, we can, if you tell me who you sold the bleeding locket to. Otherwise, this whole situation has the potential to be very painful. For you." He pressed the wand harder into his throat. Mundungus coughed.

"Okay, Harry, jeez! I didn't bloody sell it, did I?"

"Well I wouldn't know. You best start telling me."

Mundungus nodded, his eyes still on the wand. "Some broad from the bleedin' Ministry confiscated it, she did. Looked like a sodding toad, the bint. That locket woulda bin worth a pretty penny, too, let me tell ya."

Ron and Harry stared at each other. Sparks shot from Harry's wand and burned the grimy skin of Mundungus' neck. He yelped and Harry pulled his hand back, allowing Mundungus to slide down the wall and clutch his burned throat. He sputtered and wheezed on the ground while Harry and Ron seethed.

"That buggering sod of a woman." Ron's ears were a delightful crimson and he tightened his jaw. Harry couldn't speak; he just nodded tensely and gripped his wand in an angry fist.

"We have to go get it. We have to." Ron spoke with conviction. Harry was glad to hear it. He nodded again and spun quickly on his heel, pushing open the door angrily.

"Cedric. We know where the locket is." Cedric blinked and cocked his head.

"What?" His eyes met Harry's then dropped to the floor. He turned his head and stared at Hermione. "That's…we don't need that right now. We need to get Mya back." Cedric shook his head and blinked. "We need to try again."

Harry heaved a sigh and walked across the carpet until he was standing over Hermione's body on the couch. She was ashen and tiny; the couch nearly swallowed her whole. The deep wounds were jagged and dark, in stark contrast against her skin. Harry swallowed hard and looked away.

"Cedric, this is what we need to do right now." His voice was strong but Harry hated every word. That was not what they needed to do. They needed to save her now please wake up. "This locket is the only way to bring down Voldemort."

Looking up at Harry, Cedric shook his head. "It's Mya, Harry. We can't...don't give up."

Harry sighed and turned his back on the burning man and the sleeping girl. Ron was still in the kitchen, glaring daggers at Mundungus, who remained spluttering on the floor. Kreacher was hitting him with a wooden spoon.

"Ow! Bloody—ow! Stop that, you mangy— "

Kreacher smacked him in the mouth. He fell to the floor, blood trickling down his face. Ron smirked.

"Mundungus," Harry called. The grubby crook looked up at his name and flinched. "I'm not going to hit you, you pathetic twat. We need your help."

Plans were made, maps drawn, objectives recognized. Harry, Ron, and Mundungus devised a crack plan to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, ignoring the man on fire in the living room. It was ready and now or never, so Harry and Ron gathered their supplies and said good-bye to the in-between girl and the burning man and headed out the door. The sun was shining brightly.

"Shit, Harry, that really smarts!" Ron clutched his ribs and groaned as Harry shoved open the heavy door. The dark entryway wasn't particularly inviting, but Harry didn't expect it to be. He helped Ron inside and led him to the kitchen.

"Here, sit down. I'll get the book." He lowered Ron into a chair and hurried into the living room to retrieve the book from its place on the floor. Cedric remained beside Hermione listening to her surreptitious breaths. He stared at Harry as he ran in.

"How'd it go?" he asked. Harry stopped and met his gaze.

"It was mental. That place is...wow." Harry shook his head and reached into his pocket. "We got it, though."

Cedric smiled weakly. "Way to go, mate."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I gotta go help Ron." He turned and walked quickly out of the living room. Cedric watched him leave and sighed. He needed to rest one day.

Kreacher cracked back into the kitchen, making Ron jump and curse. "Merlin's sagging Y-fronts, Kreacher! What are you doing?"

"Kreacher is apologisings for frightening Master Weasley. Kreacher is lookings for Master Diggory; Kreacher has what he is wantings."

Furrowing his brow, Harry looked to Kreacher. "What did Master Diggory ask for, Kreacher?"

Kreacher rocked on his heels and tapped his forehead. "Knowledgings, sir! Excuse me, pleases, sir." He scampered past Harry into the living room. Harry watched him go and wondered.

"As curious as I am, Harry, this is not getting less painful." Ron gritted his teeth and motioned to his ribs.

"Oh, right. Sorry…" He flipped through the book until he got to the right page, muttering the spell and waving his wand. Ron hissed in pain as his side glowed pinkish.

"That's…very strange," he mused, prodding the injured ribs and smiling. "It's warm."

Harry nodded but wasn't paying attention. He was staring at the book. "Why…did it work for that, but not for…" He trailed off and looked in the direction of Hermione.

Ron's smile drooped. "I dunno. I…"

Harry huffed and shut the book. "Come on, let's see what Kreacher was rambling about."

The two boys pushed open the door and stepped into the living room. It was quite warm, from the fire Cedric had kept going. Hermione was still on the couch, a blanket draped over her thin frame. Kreacher stood in front of Cedric, looking pleased as Cedric held tightly to something in his hands.

"Hey, Cedric, what's that?" Harry motioned to the paper in Cedric's hands.

He looked at Harry and Harry was surprised to see only embers remained where an inferno had once been. "Cedric, what are you holding?"

Cedric shot him a grin. "I got Kreacher to go to Winky and get answers from my mum about these insane rings."

Ron looked from Cedric's face to the paper and back again. "So you're smiling like a fool because…"

Cedric swatted at Ron. "Pretty sure I know how to help Mya."

Complete silence. It's a funny thing: when given a solution to a baffling predicament, oftentimes the relief is so strong that instead of shouting and jumping and laughing, the only noise one is capable of making is nothing. Ron's mouth was wide and moving, like a fish out of water. Harry stared at Cedric for a minute before running a hand over his face and reaching for the paper.

"Do it." He thrust the paper back at Cedric. Cedric nodded and swallowed heavily.

"Please work…" he whispered to no one. No one replied. He shut his eyes tight and emptied his heart into the sleeping.

Hermione was getting bored. And anxious. Like the nagging told her, she had places to be and things to do and not enough time never enough time wake up! but she couldn't. All the floating sinking awake asleep was getting tedious, too. She was warm though, which was nice. It was comforting, and such a relief from the cold desolation she had felt for so long while floating in the in-between. It filled her not-body from her not-toes to her not-ears and made her think of her night with Cedric, before she got eaten by werewolves and plucked from real and into in-between. She felt her not-heart beat faster and she smiled a not-smile as she got warmer and warmer, the cold disappearing into the in-between as Cedric smiled back at her.

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_What is going on. I hope you hypothetical reading readers enjoyed. (tell me please.)_

LOVE JASPER.


	10. Chapter 8

_Hellloooooo. I know, I know, it's been what...9 months? I know I'm sorry my excuses are worthless boooooo. Anyway, I hope you kind of enjoy this new instalment. I also hope everyone didn't give up because I suck a lot. Readers, unite!_

_ps. the title is a song by Lykke Li. again..._

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_Chapter 8_

Time Flies

"What are you doing here?" This was no place for a boy like him, not at all. It was dark and cold and lonely. But not anymore.

"I came to get you, Love. You've been gone for far too long. Harry and Ron and the whole wide world, they all need you more than anything." She had missed his voice, so soothing and deep and familiar. It made her smile.

"I thought there was something I had to do, still. There is, right?"

He smiled at her and her chest swelled. "Yes, Mya. There's a world out there for you to save. A whole world, and two young boys who miss you very much. They need you. It's almost time to go." He sounded sad, and this made her sad too.

"Cedric, why do you sound sad?" There was no point in beating around the bush. This lonely place of in-between had no time for that.

He looked into her eyes, for her body had come back from the lost, and smiled a sad sad smile. "I can't go with you."

She thought her heart was breaking. He couldn't be left behind in the in-between, she wouldn't allow it he belonged out in the real with her forever please don't you remember? but when she looked into his grey eyes she saw he was truthful. He would stay behind she would go back they would be apart no please no.

"Cedric…" Hermione couldn't find the proper words. What do you say what do you do she'd never learned she never wanted to. "Please." That seemed appropriate.

His eyes were filled with sparkles, jewels and riches unmeasured and priceless. "I'm sorry, Mya. It's the way this works. You have to go: you can feel it. I can feel it. Do this for me." Cedric gave her a little grin, crooked as always, and his fading arms reached for her. "Come here, Love. I want to hold you once more, please."

She nodded, her eyes filling with sadness. The sadness spilled over and trickled down her cheeks as she pressed her face into his paling chest and held on tightly tighter than ever before don't let me go please don't.

"I love you," she whispered into his skin. He felt the words sink into his chest and settle there. He hugged her closer.

"I love you, too, Mya. I'll miss you very much." There was a catch in his throat and it made speaking difficult, even in this land of in-between and lost. Hermione heard it and lifted her head to meet his leaving eyes.

She pressed her lips to his whispers and felt her heart break again and again, smashing into a thousand little tiny shards inside her chest. She never wanted to leave, but she knew she must. He did, too. He pulled back and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Don't forget me when you save the world, Mya," he whispered, his voice getting softer with each word. She was losing him. No please no stay a little longer it's not enough it's never enough I'll miss you please.

With one last smile, Cedric faded into the in-between. Hermione watched him go, her chest exploding and her eyes filling with sorrow almost too heavy to bear.

"What the bloody hell…" Ron whispered, staring dumbfounded at the scene before him. Cedric had his lips pressed to Hermione's, and their rings were glowing brighter than the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Blue light was spilling over the two, twining and twisting and capturing them in chains of light. Hermione's wounds were slowly stitching, becoming angry scabs then quiet pink scars. Meanwhile, Cedric's body was being ripped open, blood pouring from his forearm and shoulder and the back of his head. His skin became sickly pale and he seemed to shrink.

"What is he doing?" Harry wondered aloud, staring, like Ron, in awe at the two. Suddenly a flash of purple exploded above the pair, knocking Ron and Harry off their feet. They hit the hard stone floor with a thump, Ron's wand flying from his hand and landing next to the fireplace. Cedric slid off Hermione and hit the carpeted floor, his head lolling limply. Blood stained the carpet a deep red.

"What—what the bleeding hell?" Harry scrambled to his feet and ran to Cedric's side. "Cedric? Cedric! Shit." He pulled the older boy's head onto his lap and shivered at the state of him. Behind him, Hermione stirred.

She was strangely warm, like she had fallen asleep in front of a fire or something. Her chest was tingling, but it was uncomfortable. Like glass had shattered inside her chest. Her head felt thick and heavy, and her eyes were having trouble opening. She lay quietly for a moment before shooting upright. "Cedric," she gasped, her fingers clutching at her chest. She searched the room frantically for any sign of him before settling on his crumpled form on the floor.

Harry had jumped and Hermione's gasp, but Ron was by her side in an instant, hugging her close. "Merlin's bloody beard, don't ever do anything like that again!" He shouted, squeezing her closer. Hermione didn't hug him back; she was too engrossed in the scene before her. Cedric's skin was pale and ghostly, and blood was gushing from his wounds. Her wounds.

"What happened to him?" She cried, pushing Ron off and falling to her knees next to Harry. Harry just stared at her, at a loss of what to say. Hermione shook her head in exasperation and reached for Harry's wand. She muttered all the healing spells she knew, but nothing was working. "Well…shit. Harry, what is going on?"

Ron was the first to speak. "He…kissed you. And you were better." Hermione turned to him, a look of disbelief all over her face.

"I was _better?_ What does that mean?" Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"You…don't remember?" Harry asked her carefully. Hermione sighed angrily and glared at him.

"Remember _what?_ I wake up from a nap or something and Cedric is bleeding out on the floor!" Her eyes were bright and confused. Harry frowned and looked to Cedric, pressing a discarded blanket against his wounds.

"No, Hermione…you weren't taking a nap. You were attacked, Cedric showed up here with you in his arms and blood everywhere. You've been unconscious for days. I—I thought you were going to die, Hermione. Nothing we did helped. The healing spells don't work on these wounds, and we don't know why. We don't know how to help him, Hermione." Harry sounded so lost.

"I…I was attacked? What—how—by whom? Those bloody bastards," she fumed, her eyes lighting up again. Hermione paused and gazed down at Cedric once more. "But…if I was attacked…why does Cedric look like he was ripped apart?"

Harry looked at Ron. Ron shrugged and handed him another discarded blanket to press again Cedric's body. "He…I don't know. I don't know what happened, or how it happened, but it did, and now you're better." Harry reached for her hand.

Hermione shook her head. "This is all very strange. I need to…I don't know. Why can't I remember?" She laid a thin hand on Cedric's pasty cheek and smiled sadlydown at him. "He looks beautiful."

Harry and Ron exchanged another look. He looked anything but.

Hermione leaned down and kissed his chapped lips before raising her wand and trying again to heal his wounds. Again and again, like Cedric before her, Hermione tried and tried to fix him. And again and again, the cuts remained open and bloody. Hermione sighed angrily and ran a hand through her messy hair. "This is aggravating! How do these wounds resist these healing spells?" Harry and Ron shrugged, watching painfully as Hermione laboured over Cedric as he had laboured over her. It was heartbreaking to see it all over again, only in reverse.

Cedric was cold. Wherever he was, it was very cold and very lonely. He also couldn't see a lot. It was rather empty in this strange place. He missed Mya, very much. He wished he could see her again and tell her "I love you I need you don't leave me here alone" but he knew he couldn't. That was the deal. He had to stay here, cold and alone, so Hermione could live. He hoped she was happy. He hoped she was okay, he hoped he hoped but he couldn't know for sure. His arms felt empty without her in them. He floated along quietly, thinking of her and only her as he passed by ages of ancient loneliness permeated by nothing but dark and cold.

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_sorry it was short. what can I say. I missed you all and I hope you enjoyed this extra super late new chapter. let me know, reading readers. byeeee!_

_love jaaaasssspppppeeeerrrrrrrrrr :)_


	11. Chapter 9

_Here we go again.

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Chapter 9.  
Up From Below

Harry didn't know what to do. Hermione was always the one with the answers, to any problem they'd encountered. How do we get past Fluffy? Where is the Chamber of Secrets? How can we rescue Sirius from the Dementors? How can I learn the spells to survive the Triwizard Tournament? How do we outsmart Umbridge? The questions were endless, but Hermione always pulled through. She was the brightest witch of their age, possibly their generation. But now she was at a loss for what to do, and that made Harry very worried.

They had moved Cedric to Sirius' old bedroom. The bleeding had stopped, but the wounds still looked raw and angry, and his skin was a dangerous shade of grey. There were dark rings around his closed eyes, and his hair was limp and sweaty. Hermione sat by his side all day, holding his clammy hand and drying the tears that occasionally fell from his eyes. Harry didn't like how sad she looked.

She pretended she didn't remember where she had been, but it had come back to her a few days after her resuscitation. She had been making a soup in the kitchen, and was just adding the tarragon when the memory of the cold and forlorn in-between hit her so hard her chest ached. She had dropped the spice and wooden spoon as her knees buckled. Hitting the floor hard, she had gasped for breath as the recollection flooded her mind and suffocated her. Cedric was there, all alone. She had left him.

Ron had heard her hit the floor and came running in. When he saw her on the ground gasping, he had drawn his wand and surveyed the room suspiciously. "Hermione?" he had asked, worried and apprehensive. She had looked at him and wheezed out an "I'm fine Ron really I just slipped" and he had grinned and tucked away his wand before leaning down to pick her up, chuckling to himself. Then he had turned to the soup simmering on the stove and rubbed his stomach "looks good Hermione I can't wait" before smiling at her again and leaving the kitchen.

Every day, Hermione sat at his bedside and watched his face for any sign of turmoil. Sometimes, tiny little saltwater tears would fall from his eyes and she'd cringe as she wiped them away softly. He was alone in the in-between, hurt and cold and questioning, while she was here in the real-life wishing she could take his place. That was no place for a boy like him. Harry and Ron would come in every so often to check on her and Cedric, but there was nothing they could do. They had tried every healing spell they knew, but nothing seemed to work. Harry and Ron said the same thing had happened when they tried to heal her. She would nod and keep trying.

Today was no different. The bright yellow light burst from her wand and bathed Cedric in its glow as Hermione held her breath and hoped for his eyes to open. Again the light slowly faded, leaving Cedric unconscious still and Hermione desperate. She knew they couldn't stay there much longer; they had so much to do, so many horcruxes to find and destroy, so many people to save, but she couldn't tear herself away from him. What would they do with him as they scoured the world for bits of Voldemort's soul?

Certainly they couldn't take him with them. An unconscious young man was not an ideal travel companion. And they already had an overwhelming amount of responsibilities on their plates; Hermione was simply at a loss.

On the sixth night of Cedric's journey into the in-between, Hermione left his side and went downstairs. She sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the unlit hearth with a head a million miles away. The rings Cedric's mother had given them in her fourth year were invading her thoughts, and she was convinced that in the rings lay an answer to their problem. During the third task, the rings had brought Cedric back to life. She figured the rings had played a role in tearing her from the in-between, too, but she had no idea why Cedric had had to take her place. It didn't make any sense. Why replace one with the other, when it had already been proven one couldn't really live without their other half?

Harry stood in the doorway, watching Hermione think. It hurt him very much to see her like this, almost as much as when it was she in Cedric's place, her blood soaking the carpet and staining their hands. She seemed lost and sad and Harry could completely understand. When Sirius had fallen through the veil Harry had felt the same way, riddled with guilt and at a loss for any explanation. He sighed and turned away, heading back into the kitchen to try and find a way to destroy the horcrux they had retrieved.

Cedric was cold again. He had been warm for a long while, but suddenly the cold was back. It hurt, but not as much as his no-heart. That ached and pounded against his no-chest as his no-eyes strained to see anything in this ancient place of loss and silence. He thought it was strange that he was the only one here. Weren't there more people who had traded their lives for another? Cedric certainly thought there was. He was getting so lonely without anyone to talk to with his no-voice.

"I'm worried about Hermione, Ron." Harry's voice was hushed, his eyes staring hard at the locket. Ron turned to him and nodded, rubbing his face with a large freckled hand.

"I know, mate. But what are we to do? Nothing we do seems to help." Ron reached out and fingered the locket, sighing quietly. "I'm not sure how long he can last."

Without his glasses on, everything was blurry and ill defined. He kind of liked it. "He's looking fairly awful, Ron. I have no idea what to do." His hands tangled themselves in his messy hair and tugged. "What in the bloody hell are we supposed to do?"

Ron shrugged and dropped the locket. "I haven't a bleeding clue, mate. But we do need to find the other horcruxes. That's what I know for sure." His blue eyes looked down at the table. "Cedric…we'll just have to figure it out, I suppose."

The way Ron said it made it all sound so simple. Like the answer to everything was right in front of them. Harry didn't think it to be so easy. Hermione was brilliant, and he and Ron had proven themselves to be quite adept at times. The solution was much more complex than "we'll just have to figure it out."

The soft padding of footsteps brought the two boys out of their thoughts. Hermione sat down across from them and grabbed the locket, her eyes quizzical as she gazed at the egg-shaped golden pendant. Harry and Ron watched her carefully. She hadn't left Cedric's side in ages. She looked up at them, her fingers still clutching the locket, and met their gaze. "I need to know how Cedric did what he did."

Ron started to protest, but Harry nodded. "Kreacher!"

The house elf popped into the room, his fluffy white hair spurting proudly from his ears. "Master Potter called?" he croaked, bowing slightly.

Harry looked to Hermione once more before addressing the elf. "Hermione would like to know how Cedric was able to heal her. She needs you to give her all the information you gave to Cedric."

Kreacher frowned and shook his head. "Kreacher cannot do thats, no no. Master Diggory says to Kreacher, 'don't tell Mya what I is doing or how I is doings it, because she will tries and be savings me from where I goes. And she cannots be doings this because she is havings so many things to be doings with Harry and Ron.' So Kreacher is keeping from Master Potter and Mistress Granger the knowledgings Master Diggory asked Kreacher to gets from Mistress Diggory." Catching the looks all three were giving him, Kreacher added, "Kreacher is sorry, Master Potter. Master Diggory is making Kreacher promise with all of his heart." With that, Kreacher bowed and left them in the kitchen.

"How could Cedric do this?" Her voice was quiet and strained, but Harry and Ron still heard it. Ron looked at her and frowned sadly, reaching for her hand.

"He did it for you, Hermione. We need you." His blue eyes were boring into her amber ones. She tried not to blink.

"We need him, too. I need him. I don't…understand. Any of this. And I'm so tired." Hermione ran a thin hand through her hair and the two boys were horrified to see tears in her eyes.

"Hermione, I know it's all confusing and right messed, but Cedric did this for you, and for us, and for the whole bleeding wizarding world. We can't just give up now because we're sad." Ron leaned forward onto the table, trying to catch Hermione's eye. "It's what he wanted."

A single tear fell from her eye, spilling over and falling down her pale cheek and finally dripping onto the thick wooden table. The trail left behind was shining in the light of the kitchen. She sniffed and wiped at her cheek, sighing softly. "He's such a bloody fool," she whispered, more to herself than to the boys. "And now he's all alone."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look before responding. "Hermione, he's not alone, he's got us. You've barely left his side in nearly a week." Harry tried his best to reassure her, but she just shook her head. "Hermione…"

She lifted her gaze and tried for a smile. "I know. I'm sorry, we should be working on this horcrux deal, I expect. Have we gotten anywhere?" She held up the locket, the chain twisting around her index finger. Ron shook his head while Harry gave a gruff, "No."

Hermione nodded, furrowing her brow. Her lip was tugged into her mouth as she examined the pendant. The jeweled serpent seemed to follow her with every movement, and it made her shudder. The thing was evil, that much was obvious, despite its aesthetic appeal. "Nothing? You've tried every spell you know?"

Harry and Ron nodded, grimacing. "Everything. That thing is indestructible."

Ron nodded and glared at the locket. "Can you feel it?" His blue eyes were worried. Hermione glanced up at him, her fingers tightening around the locket. A faint thump could be felt, like a slow heartbeat. But it felt deathly slow and dangerous.

"Yes," she whispered, dropping the locket onto the table and shivering. "It's…alive, it feels like. And evil." She tucked her hands into her lap, her eyes remaining glued on the piece of Voldemort's soul.

The boys murmured in agreement, all three eyeing the fragment of a murderous being sitting on their kitchen table. Silence fell, the only sounds their breathing and the faint beat of the locket, the kitchen slowly filling with darkness as thick clouds obstructed the moon. The three sat and stared and hoped for answers none of them knew where to look for.

Cedric felt as if he had been adrift for years, floating unaccompanied on a desolate ocean. His thoughts in his no-head were increasingly dark, and his no-heart continued to ache relentlessly in his no-chest. He wished there was someone, anyone, he could talk to, even if just for a moment. He found he missed mundane conversations with strangers, the awkward small-talk of acquaintances, the passing hello's on bustling city streets. His voice was a no-voice, just like his no-body and his no-heart. It made him sad, to be so alone and unsubstantial. He wanted to see her again.

Floating along like a cloud in a summer sky was incredibly dull, Cedric found. There was nothing to do but think with his no-mind and drift in the land of the lost and ancient, occasionally passing through patches of darker grey than the rest. Those patches chilled him to his no-bones and made him wish even harder for her arms. The primordial sadness held in those patches of lost lingered on his no-body and invaded his no-mind for ages and ages and it made him ache all over. Sometimes his no-eyes would leak.

After an eternity of hanging through the grey and dark, Cedric thought he saw with his no-eyes a vague shape ahead of him. An uneasy feeling settled in his no-stomach and he tried to slow his floating through the lost, but he was on an unstoppable path. He drifted closer and closer, though the shape lost none of its vagueness. It was large and looming, darker than the dark sadness he had drifted through, and rather formidable, in Cedric's opinion. He felt fear, and he wanted very much to be away from this figure. But he kept going, closer closer closer his no-heart beat heavily in his no-chest and his no-hands were sweating please don't hurt me I want to be with her again no.

Kreacher placed three bowls of onion soup on the table in front of the trio, breaking them from their reveries. Hermione licked her lips and realised how hungry she really was; how long had it been since she'd eaten? Harry and Ron were already digging into Kreacher's soup, the quality of which had greatly improved since they spoke to him about Regulus, and Kreacher was on his way upstairs to feed Cedric. She sighed and dipped her spoon into the soup, her stomach growling in anticipation.

After dinner, the three migrated to the study to try and do more research. They stayed away from the couch in the living room these days. It was thick and heavy and red and Hermione couldn't breathe. Harry had a hard time looking at the stains. Ron just didn't like the way it made Hermione react. So they went to the study, using the Black family library to their advantage as they looked for ways to destroy bits and pieces of Tom Riddle's soul.

He was so close to it now, the dark looming figure. He was scared. He wanted to go back to Mya so he could be warm and happy and alive. But he was here with the terrifying and he was lost and cold. He was nearly touching it now with his no-hands he tried to pull back but the current of the in-between pushed him forward still. Closer closer why was he so scared? It was empty here, no one lived no one came it was silent and cold and empty but why was he so scared?

He felt himself enter the dark and shut his no-eyes tightly, her face swimming into his mind. "Hello beautiful how are you I've missed you very much since I've been gone how is Harry how is Ron won't you kiss me just once I love you" and she smiled at him and he was content. The darkness surrounded him, but it wasn't cold like the others. His sense of fear slowly waned until he was merely curious. And he felt more solid than before, how strange.

He opened his almost-eyes and looked around. It was still grey and chilly and lonely, but it didn't feel as lonely as before, either. He looked down at his almost-hands and wiggled his almost-fingers. Looking around, he saw that this place was more substantial, too, like a blurry room as seen through a rain-soaked window. Where was he?

Hearing a noise, Cedric glanced behind him and leapt back in fright, his almost-body sailing lightly through the in-between air. It was gentle. Stealing himself, Cedric opened his eyes and focused on the figure in front of him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong stance. His black hair was messy and long, and his handsome face was gaunt and haunted. Cedric recognized him, but he was very confused. Did this mean he was for real dead too?

"Who are you?" The man floated forward, his steps light and airy. Cedric backed up and fumbled. "How did you get here?"

"I—" Cedric found he had a voice. It was more substantial than his body. "I'm Cedric. Where am I? What is this place? I'm awfully confused." The man stepped forward, peering curiously at Cedric.

"Why—I know you! What in the name of Merlin are you doing here, boy?" The man came forward and gripped Cedric's almost-shoulders with his hands. Cedric realised he was fully formed, entirely here. Is that what would happen to him?

"I'm not entirely sure. I…well, it's a lengthy story. And I don't quite understand it all. What are you doing here?" He was the same height as the man, though the man seemed to hunch a bit. Perhaps it was from loneliness.

"Diggory, you saw it for yourself. You know how I got here." The man fixed him with a look that made Cedric worried.

"But…but…I thought you died. I thought—am I dead?" Cedric's almost-eyes widened in fear, but the man shook his head sadly.

"No, Diggory, you're not dead. I'm not sure what you are, or what I am for that matter. But I know that we're not dead. We're just lost, I suppose." He sounded sad. Cedric knew how he felt.

"So…so we're not dead, exactly, just…lost in this…place?" He looked around at their surroundings, grey and chilled and ancient. "Well, shit."

The man laughed, a deep throaty sound. Cedric thought it had been an awfully long time since the man had laughed. "Shit indeed, Diggory." He looked at him again, suddenly somber. "Harry?"

Cedric grinned an almost-grin. Of course, Harry. It had always been Harry for this lonely lost man, in the real life and in the in-between. Father and son; blood meant nothing. It made him happy to know someone loved Harry like a father would. "Harry…Harry is fine. He's with Ron and Mya, as usual." Cedric let a small almost-chuckle slip past his almost-lips. "He's fine, Sirius."

* * *

_wuddup, twist?  
__so again, I'm sorry that I suck at updating. I'm getting back into the swing of things highfive! so it should be more often than that casual 9 month nothing.  
__let me know if you still want this story to keep on keeping on! Or if you want it to shut up and peace. Who knows not me.  
__p.s the title is an Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes song._

_love Jasper_


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.  
The Bleeder.

"How have you been, Sirius?" The question seemed foolish; he had been floating in this awful land of uncertainty and darkness alone for years. But Cedric was unsure of what to say. He had been certain that Sirius had died when he fell through the veil, he had seen him tumble through in a flash of red light. He had heard Harry's desperate yells and felt the young boy thrashing in his arms as he tried to restrain him. He had witnessed the death of Sirius Black, and now here he was, floating along and having a mundane conversation with the man.

Sirius gave a snort of laughter, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes and meeting Cedric's questioning eyes. "How do you reckon I've been, Diggory?"

Cedric blushed and looked down at his feet. "I…not well, I imagine."

Nodding curtly, Sirius cleared his throat. "Yes, well, what could you expect? This place is boring. And it's awfully grey." He looked back at Cedric, appraising. "Why are you here, Diggory? Not that I'm not grateful for the company."

Cedric gave a half-smile and rubbed his neck. "I…oh balls. It's confusing, Sirius." But, upon seeing Sirius' face, he continued hastily, "Just let me get my thoughts in order; this is very disconcerting." Sirius attempted a smile and nodded his shaggy head. Taking a deep breath, Cedric began his story.

"Do you remember in Harry's fourth year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Sirius nodded, his teeth gritting. "Good. So, you remember the graveyard, and how Wormtail tried to kill me?" Another grunt. "Good. My mother had given Hermione and I her grandfather's rings before the third task, which saved my life when the curse hit me. Technically, I had died, but… through Hermione I lived. These rings," Cedric gestured to the ring sitting comfortably on his almost-finger, "are completely mental, to be honest. They…when I was hit with the curse, everything that happened to me happened to Mya. Everything I felt, she felt.

"These rings saved my life, because of how Mya felt about me. There are only three pairs of these rings in existence, and they supposedly only work if the love between two people is True." Sirius nodded his head and cleared his throat to speak.

"So, those rings are like Lily and James? The way she died to save Harry is like the way Hermione saved your life by loving you?" His eyes were narrowed in thought.

Cedric nodded, running an almost-hand through his nearly-hair. "Yeah, like that. Apparently, 'one cannot live while the other dies.' As long as she's alive and well, I am, too."

Sirius exhaled heavily. He looked taken-aback, his dark eyes widening. "You two can only stay alive if _both _of you are alive?"

"Not exactly. See, when Mya saved my life back in my sixth year, she invoked the full power of the rings, albeit unconsciously. Therefore, the rings cannot just give; they have to take. Well, according to my mum, anyway." Cedric sighed and crossed his arms. "So, when Mya was attacked by Greyback, I couldn't just feel what she felt and heal her, like she had done for me. The rings don't work that way; otherwise the wearers would live forever. Instead, the only way to heal her was for me to trade places with her. I had to _literally_ take away her pain. Which, you know, kind of bites."

Sirius looked at Cedric, his face unreadable. Feeling uncomfortable under his stare, Cedric coughed and looked around at his surroundings. Silence fell between the two, stretching across the room and filling his ears with a ringing noise. He shuffled his almost-feet and tucked his hands into his pockets.

The new place was grey. Grey walls, grey floor, grey ceiling, grey air. But it wasn't quite as stifling as the previous in-between he had been floating in for ages; it was lighter, more airy. It was a nice change. He wandered toward the far wall, and a strange breeze brushed his hair from his face. Unsure of the breeze's origin, Cedric ignored it and ran his hand along the wall. It looked to be made of stone, but upon touching it Cedric found it was about as substantial as he was. That is, nearly there, but not quite.

The silence still lay between the two men, quiet and uninterrupted. Sirius watched Cedric with wondering eyes as Cedric perused his new surroundings, taking it all in with a critical look on his face.

"Cedric." His uncharacteristically soft voice broke through the silence that had stretched between them for who knows how long. Cedric looked up from his inspections and met Sirius' dark eyes, raising a brow in question. Sirius met his gaze steadily, walking toward the wall Cedric was currently studying. He extended his hand and waited.

Cedric looked down at Sirius' hand, puzzled. He cocked his head and looked back up at the older man. Smiling slightly, Sirius looked pointedly at Cedric's own hand, then back at his. Blushing again, Cedric reached out and shook Sirius' hand before getting tugged into a crushing hug—how it was able to be crushing in this land of insubstantial was beyond him.

"Sirius—what?" His words were muffled against Sirius' shoulder as the man clung to him, his fingers digging almost desperately into his back. Cedric awkwardly placed his arms around Sirius, returning the surprise hug.

"You are a better man than I ever thought, Diggory. Hermione is lucky to have someone like you." He pulled back and Cedric was a bit embarrassed to note the distinct wetness in his eyes. "You remind me of James."

Cedric blushed and looked away, rubbing his nose self-consciously. Sirius kept his hands on Cedric's shoulders, his grip tight and respecting. "Sirius, I—" Sirius chuckled softly and clapped him once more on the shoulder before stepping back.

"Just like James…" he muttered softly, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Now, let's see if we can't find a way out of here."

The Black family library was filled with books on Dark magic. It was a bit alarming, really, that a personal library was so well stocked with dark materials, but what else could be expected? Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been going through the books methodically for what felt like years, finding next to nothing. Finding himself particularly frustrated with a specific tome, Ron slammed the thing shut angrily and chucked it away, frowning.

"This is useless. We have a horcrux, no bloody way to get rid of it, an unconscious bloke hanging out in the upstairs bedroom, and no leads on the other horcruxes." Ron glared at a spot on the carpet, his bottom lip jutting out. Hermione looked up from her thick text and couldn't help but grin at his put-out expression.

"Ron, are you seriously pouting right now?" He looked up sharply and fixed his glare on her thin face.

"Yes."

Harry snorted and chucked his book into Ron's lap, smirking when Ron flinched. "Come on then, Won-Won, we've got work to do."

Ron transferred his glare from Hermione to Harry, though it had lost some of its effect. "I'm _bored_, Harry. We've been reading for Merlin knows how long, and everything is getting very blurry. It's exhausting."

"Maybe a break is in order, then," Hermione suggested, getting up from her place on the carpet and stretching. Her back popped painfully and she winced at the noise before picking up her wand and walking out of the study. Ron leapt up and ran out of the room behind her, heading straight for the kitchen. Harry smiled before running a hand over his face and following the two.

Kreacher fixed them a quick meal of sandwiches and tea. The three sat down around the kitchen table and tucked in eagerly, devouring the plate of sandwiches. Kreacher had just placed a second plate on the table when the clicking of an opening door echoed down the hall and into the kitchen. At once, all three had leapt to their feet and drawn their wands, silence falling as they listened hard.

A whooshing noise could be heard from the entrance hall, and Hermione knew it to be the dust figure of Albus Dumbledore. The trio crept carefully to the door of the kitchen, Harry pushing it open silently as they made their way into the entranceway. Ron pushed Hermione gently behind him, shielding her with his immense height.

"It was not I who killed you, Albus." A quiet voice echoed through the old house, and Hermione felt a great feeling of relief course through her body. She dropped her wand and rushed forward, Ron doing the same. Harry, however, flung his arm out to stop them before addressing the voice.

"Don't move." Harry's voice was cold and demanding. Hermione looked at him, affronted, before realizing he was speaking to the intruder.

"Harry," she whispered, "it's Remus. What are you doing?" Harry ignored her, instead tightening his grip on his wand.

"Harry, it's me, Remus Lupin. I am a werewolf and former professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in 1993, married to Nymphadora Tonks and member of the Order of the Phoenix." His voice was so familiar it made Hermione miss home. "I taught you to perform the Patronus charm, and yours takes the form of a stag."

Harry's wand hand wavered before dropping. Hermione smiled and raced down the hall to engulf Remus in a hug, Ron and Harry following close behind.

"My god, Remus, what happened? Is everyone okay?" Hermione's questions were said into Remus' tattered old cloak, but he heard her nonetheless.

"Hermione, my dear, everyone is fine. Thanks to Kingsley's Patronus, we were able to evacuate the guests before the Death Eaters could do too much damage." He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "Ginny? And mum and dad? Are they…are they alright?"

Remus smiled at Ron and nodded. "They're just worried about you three." Ron sighed in relief, nodding. "Now I have a question for you lot." The trio looked at him apprehensively, but Harry nodded his assent. "Where is Cedric? His father has been going absolutely spare; he hasn't heard from him in days."

Hermione went pale, Ron looked down quickly and Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. Remus looked around at the three, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. "Hermione? Where's Cedric?"

Hermione looked up at her former professor, her stomach twisting painfully, and took a deep breath. "There's something you need to see, professor."

Hermione led the group up the stairs to Sirius' old bedroom, taking another steadying breath before opening the door. Cedric lay quite still on the bed, his face pale and drawn. Blood still seeped from his wounds, which stood out in stark contrast against his blanched skin. His hair was dull and sweaty against his sticky forehead, and Hermione flinched when she noticed his eyelashes were glistening with tears.

Remus was speechless. He stood stock-still in the doorway, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Harry stood beside Hermione, gripping her hand tightly, while Ron stood just behind Remus, watching Hermione carefully. Remus took a shaky step inside the bedroom, his eyes never leaving Cedric's broken form. "What…what happened?" His voice was quiet and raspy.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "He…the rings." Remus tore his eyes from Cedric's body to look at Hermione. She gestured to the ring on her finger, which continued to glow a faint blue. He swallowed and looked back to Cedric, noticing his ring glowed blue too.

"Hermione was attacked by Greyback." Ron spoke from the doorway, his eyes remaining on Hermione. He noticed her flinch. "The wounds wouldn't stop bleeding, and she was dying. Nothing we did helped. So Cedric got information from his mother about the rings her grandfather gave to her, and then he kissed her and purple light exploded and suddenly he was in Hermione's place and Hermione was awake." Hermione swallowed hard and Ron felt bad for reminding her.

Remus looked aghast. "Greyback?" His dark eyes darted from Cedric to Ron to Hermione, searching for answers. "_He _did this?" He turned to Hermione. "You were attacked by a _werewolf? _How…bloody sodding hell." Running a hand over his lined face, Remus sagged against the wall. Ron stepped forward hastily to catch him, but Remus waved him away. "You…Hermione, how—this is…"

Unable to form a full sentence, Remus just shook his head and fixed his troubled eyes back on the boy in the bed. Ron hovered near Remus, in case he staggered again, and Harry remained Hermione's anchor. The room was silent.

Night fell suddenly. Before any of them knew it, the moon was shining brightly through the open blinds in Sirius' old room. When the ethereal light nudged Remus' left arm, he flinched before sighing and pushing himself off the wall. Everything felt awfully heavy; the air and the night and the words he had to say. He didn't want to move from his spot in the doorway, acting as a sentinel for the brave broken boy lying motionless, but he knew he had to.

"Right, well…I reckon we could all use some sleep." His voice broke the almost trance-like silence that had been dousing the room since they entered. Harry was the first to react.

"Yeah…yeah. Come on, Hermione." Still with her hand in his, he began to lead her from the stifling room. She hesitated, glancing at Harry once before releasing his hand and going to Cedric's side. Harry sat back and waited, while Ron shuffled his feet in the doorway, watching her carefully.

He was warm to the touch, and damp. She wiped his forehead with the back of her hand before placing a soft kiss on his whispering lips. Remus noticed, with tired intrigue, the rings glowed softly when their lips met. But it was gone so quickly, he couldn't be sure if it had even happened.

They left the room one by one, Harry trailing behind Hermione. They all filed into their respective bedrooms, all their thoughts swirling and twisting in their heads, filling their minds with images of broken boys and crimson blood and crushing jaws. The silence was dark and overwhelming.

She dreamed in flashes of grey in empty ancient lands. She dreamed of lost boys and forgotten souls. She dreamed of love and crimson and final words. She dreamed of him. And she wished more than anything she was with him, sitting in his back yard watching the fading summer sun descend behind the trees. He would be bathed in golden light and she would trace the shape of his lips.

She awoke suddenly, jerking up out of bed with a gasp. The sheets were tangled around her legs and her shirt felt entirely too tight. She took deep panting breaths, trying to calm her heart. It was beating heavily, though she wasn't entirely sure why. She blinked hard, and the after-image of her dream, the one that made her jolt out of bed, blazed across her eyelids.

The veil fluttered softly on a hidden breeze, the ancient archway tremendous in its sadness. The inscription in the primordial stone blurred, but the whispered voices remained sharp in her mind. He was there.

_"Here I am, love. Come find me…"_

_

* * *

_

_heyo. I hope this explained some of it. I'm sorry they're still just kickin it in Grimmauld Place, but it's necessary._

_the title is a song by the Wallflowers. _

_review my reading readers, review!_

_loooove, Jasper._


	13. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.  
Daydreaming.

"Hermione, what—" Harry looked blearily up at her as she shook him awake. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his glasses and sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "What time is it? Is something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head, and Harry noticed how pale she was. Her eyes were wide, and her hair was wild around her head. He sat up straighter and reached for her hand. "Hermione…what is it? Is it Cedric?" Her hands were shaking.

"Yes…Harry, I think—this is going to sound absolutely mental, but I think Cedric is in the Department of Mysteries." She bit her lip and waited for him to answer.

He looked like a fish out of water. Shaking his head slowly, Harry scrutinized her face. "Are you sleepwalking?"

Hermione huffed and tugged her hand away. "No! Harry, I'm wide-awake. I had this dream, this surreal dream, about the Veil. It all seemed so real, and in my dream he spoke to me. He said he's there. We have to save him, Harry." Her voice, which had been steadily rising, dropped back to a whisper.

"Cedric…is in the Veil? Hermione, what—"

"Listen to me, Harry! It makes sense!" Hermione began pacing Harry's bedroom, ignoring the snoring Ron on the opposite side. "The Veil is like a…a gateway to Death. I should've died from the attack, but I didn't, because of the magic of the rings. So instead of actually dying, I was suspended between life and death."

"Hermione…"

"You aren't listening! He's not dead!"

"I know he's not dead, Hermione, he's lying in a bed downstairs! But you said it yourself: the Veil is a gateway to Death. If someone's stuck there, you can't get them out. Remember Sirius?" His eyes bore into hers, forcing Hermione to realize what he was saying.

"Of course I remember Sirius." Her voice was back to a whisper. "But Harry, how do we know for sure if he died?"

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "We saw him fall through the Veil! Hermione, we were there! We saw him die!"

Ron grunted and rolled over, sighing in his sleep. Hermione spared him a glance before turning back to Harry.

"But did we?" Harry narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione kept on. "I _know _we saw him fall, but we don't know if he died. Bellatrix didn't hit him with a Killing curse, remember? So maybe, _maybe_, he's still alive, just like Cedric, stuck in limbo. Maybe we can get them back!"

Harry sat in his bed with the blankets pooled over his lap and pondered Hermione's words. He couldn't lie, having Sirius back would be all sorts of amazing, but he had seen him fall. Didn't that mean he had seen him die?

"I don't know, Hermione…" He rubbed his temple roughly. "I mean, if there was a way to get Sirius back, don't you think Dumbledore would've told us?"

Hermione stared at Harry, her eyes wet. "There's a lot Dumbledore didn't tell us, Harry." She reached for his hand, squeezing softly. "Exhibit A: the horcruxes and how to destroy them."

Harry nodded, his eyes unfocused as he thought. Hermione could have a point, he realized. Sirius _hadn't _been hit with a Killing curse, and Hermione _hadn't _died from fatal wounds. But…

"What do you mean, 'suspended between life and death?'"

Hermione dropped her gaze, sniffing softly. "Hermione, where were you?"

She was silent for a long while, and Harry was just about to press the issue more when she began to speak. "I…I'm not actually certain. It was cold, and grey, and it felt…it felt ancient. Like it had been there since before time. And there was nothing. _I _was nothing. I had no body or anything. It—I thought I was dead, actually." Harry stared at her, aghast, but she ignored his look. "Then Cedric came. I don't know how, but suddenly he was there, and my body was coming back. He was taking my place."

"Hermione, I…" Trailing off, Harry just squeezed her hand tighter.

"He's not dead. He's just…in-between. The Veil is the most logical place of entry. It's an acting gateway to Death, so who's to say it's not also a gateway to limbo? To the lost?" Her eyes were bright, her cheeks spotted with pink. Harry bit his lip as he thought about the logicality of her thought process.

"That's…it could be true. But, Hermione, how are we meant to get into the Department of Mysteries? I'm Undesirable No. 1, remember?"

"Bugger," she muttered, furrowing her brow. "I…bugger."

Harry sighed and tucked his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze. "Hermione, if we could, you _know _we'd try to save him. But…Hermione, we've no time. We're the most wanted people in Britain. We've got a Dark Lord to kill. We don't have _time_."

She nodded, biting her lip and avoiding his eyes. "I know," she whispered, her eyes focusing on his right ear. "I know all of that, Harry, I do, but—but it's _him."_ Blinking quickly, she began tracing the sheet currently tangled around Harry. "It's him."

Harry's chest clenched painfully. Hermione was never one to show weakness, and her whispered moonlight confession broke his heart. It made him realise just how much they had to give up; they were all so young. He swallowed and awkwardly reached out, tugging her into a clumsy embrace. Her curly hair tickled his chin as he tucked her head into his chest, pressing his lips quickly against her head. She hugged back, hard, her fingertips digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. They were all so young.

The summer sun peaking through the dusty window greeted the three teens. Harry and Hermione remained on Harry's small bed, limbs intertwined comfortingly. Ron was sprawled out on his bed, the blankets strewn about his lanky form. Harry was the first to wake, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and straightening his glasses. Hermione stirred in his arms, but snuggled closer to his chest rather than waking. Ron grunted and rolled over and off his bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump.

"Sodding hell!" He shouted blearily, his arms flailing. Hermione startled awake at his exclamation, hitting Harry in the chin.

"Oh! Sorry, Harry…" She rolled out of bed and straightened her shirt, yawning and rubbing her eyes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted up from downstairs and she perked up slightly, scratching the back of her head. "That smells delicious."

Harry and Ron followed her downstairs, Ron glancing occasionally between Harry and her, a questioning look on his face. Remus was in the kitchen, sipping from a mug of steaming coffee and staring at the table.

"G'morning, Remus," Harry greeted, pouring himself and Hermione a cup and sitting down, handing her the mug.

Remus looked up at him and offered a weak smile. "Good morning, Harry, Hermione, Ron. Sleep well?" He took another sip of coffee and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah, like a baby," Ron declared, stretching. Harry nodded, and Hermione took a tentative sip of the coffee.

"Oh, Remus, I was wondering if I could speak with you about something?" She glanced up at him briefly, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course, Hermione," he replied, setting down his cup and motioning toward the door to the living room. "Shall we?"

The living room certainly wasn't Hermione's favourite place. She took a deep breath before following Remus into the room, ignoring Ron's questioning glances and Harry's concerned looks as she shut the door behind her.

"What is it, Hermione?" Remus sat on the couch and Hermione flinched as she noted the dark stains. They never had gotten around to cleaning them.

She cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from her blood staining the couch. They settled on his blood staining the carpet. "Well, it's…it's going to sound a bit strange, Remus, but…" Hermione paused, swallowing hard. Pulling her eyes from his blood, Hermione met Remus' gaze. "I think Cedric is in the Department of Mysteries, and I think we can save him."

Remus stared at her, his mouth falling open. No one spoke for a few tense moments. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione blushed lightly and rubbed her nose. "I had a dream." Seeing his face, Hermione hastened on. "It wasn't a regular dream, Remus. I…it was so real. I could _feel _it. And when I woke up, it all made sense." Taking a deep breath, she absentmindedly fingered her ring. "He's there, Remus, I know it. Think about it: where else would someone stuck in the in-between go? The veil is the gateway between life and death. It's limbo."

Remus held her gaze for a long while, his face unreadable. Running a hand over his lined face, he sighed heavily and leaned back on the couch. Hermione watched him with nervous eyes. She needed someone to listen, someone who wasn't bound to the horcrux hunt.

"Hermione, I don't know. This all sounds very hypothetical; you're getting your information from a—a dream you had!" Remus rested his elbows on his knees and met her gaze again. "Cedric is upstairs, Hermione. I saw him. You saw him. He's upstairs in a bed, unconscious, just like he has been for seven days." Seeing Hermione flinch almost made him regret his words. Almost. "You're coming up with scenarios in order to fix something that can't be so easily fixed. I fear you've spent too much time around Ron and Harry; not everything has a quick fix. Not everything is so black and white."

Hermione broke eye contact, hugging her torso tightly. Glancing outside, she could see the usual gang of cloaked figures waiting patiently in the courtyard outside their house. They shuffled and shifted in the shade under the thick trees, their thick cloaks obscuring their faces. She shuddered slightly.

"I know he's upstairs, Remus, I'm not daft." She spoke softly, her eyes still out the window.

"I never said you were daft, Hermione. In fact, you're quite the opposite. I'm just saying that a feeling you had from a dream isn't enough to go on. The Veil is shrouded in mystery, and very heavily guarded. It's in the very depths of the Ministry of Magic, the same Ministry that currently wants your head."

Hermione nodded slowly, shifting her weight. "A dream was enough to go on when it was Sirius in the Ministry. A dream was enough to go on when it was Mr Weasley being attacked. Why is it that my dream isn't even worth pursuing?"

Remus sighed again, rubbing his brow. "Those were different, Hermione. Harry has a very special connection with You-Know-Who—"

"And I have one with Cedric!" Hermione interrupted, her eyes bright. "I know you weren't there when Cedric was hit with the curse, but I was. I was there, Remus, and as of that night, Cedric joined Harry on the list of people to survive the Killing curse. The list is two people long. Do you not understand the amount of love it takes for the Killing curse to be negated? Lily _died _for Harry! And I gave my life to save Cedric's. This isn't just some funny feeling I have. This isn't some schoolgirl wishful thinking. This is something more than that, and I need for you to listen to me when I tell you that Cedric. Is. There." Her chest heaving and pulse hammering, Hermione stared Remus down. She watched his face as he stared back, slightly taken-aback by her vehement speech.

"Hermione, I—"

"Remus, please. Have a little faith." She looked away, breathing heavily. "Believe in me like you believe in Harry, just this once."

"I do believe in you, Hermione. You're the brightest witch of your generation," Remus said softly, reaching out with his large hand to grasp her wrist. "I wouldn't trust anyone more than you to keep Harry alive, and to save the entire wizarding world. You have my complete faith. But this…this is…"

Hermione didn't pull her arm away, but she didn't return the gesture. With wet eyes, she pleaded. "Remus, I need you to believe me. This is incredibly important. And if there's a chance to get Cedric back, that means there's a chance to get Sirius back." Remus gasped quietly, squeezing her wrist. "We could save them both."

Remus met her wet gaze, his own eyes sparkling. "Sirius is dead, Hermione."

Exhaling sharply, Hermione tugged her wrist from his grasp and pressed a hand against her forehead. "Perhaps you should take your own advice, Remus, when you told me that not everything is so black and white." Remus opened his mouth to object, but Hermione was determined. "No. You and Harry, you're both too willing to accept what you saw. What did you see, Remus?"

Swallowing tightly, Remus rubbed his eyes. "I saw Sirius die, Hermione. He fell through the Veil. We saw him die."

"You saw him _fall! _Who's to say he actually died when he fell through the Veil? He wasn't hit with the Killing curse. He only fell through. Please, Remus." She bit her bottom lip and dropped her arms to her sides, deflating slightly.

Still on the couch, Remus stared at Hermione with something akin to wonder in his eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he leaned back into the cushions and rubbed his eyes. "So you're saying…" He cleared his throat roughly before continuing. "You're saying Sirius could still be alive?"

"Yes. He and Cedric are still alive, and they're trapped in limbo. The Veil is the most plausible place of entry if we want to save them." Hermione sat down next to Remus on the couch, resting her head on her palm. "But I have no time, Remus. I'm supposed to be saving the sodding world, not pulling two souls out of limbo."

Remus wrapped his long arm around her shoulders. "I'll do all I can. I'll tell the other members of the Order, we'll see what we can find on the Veil. But Hermione," Remus tilted her chin so her eyes met his. "There is the possibility that we…won't find anything. You have to be willing to accept that, once lost through the Veil, one cannot return." Hermione shut her eyes quickly, taking a deep breath, before nodding. "Good. And one more thing…" She met his intense gaze easily. "Destroying You-Know-Who comes first, Hermione. We'll never have a chance of saving Sirius and Cedric if he isn't defeated. Stick with Harry and Ron."

"Of course, Remus. I would never…" Remus tightened his arm around her shoulders, nodding silently.

"I know. Now, let's see if we can't get some breakfast." The two stood and walked to the door, his arms still comfortingly around her shoulders. Opening the door, they found Ron and Harry hastening to get back to the table and appear innocent.

Hermione smiled slightly, rolling her eyes. "You two are hopeless." They smiled sheepishly and shrugged, Ron patting the seat next to him.

"Come sit, Hermione. Kreacher's making French toast." He grinned at her again and she smiled, ducking out of Remus' arm and sitting next to Ron.

Finally, someone was able to do something about Cedric. She was no longer lost, flailing through the unknown in an attempt to keep him with her. She knew where he was, and she had the force of the Order behind her. Cedric was safe as he was, his parents would take care of him, and Remus was here. For just a moment, everything seemed like it would be all right.

"What do you do here, then?" Cedric looked over at Sirius and asked, gesturing around the in-between. Sirius looked over at him from his place on the stone stairs and shrugged.

"There's not a whole lot _to _do. You think, I suppose. And dream." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "You dream."

Cedric floated over to him, settling onto the stairs. "What do you dream of?" He asked tentatively, not knowing if he was overstepping some boundaries.

Sirius opened his eyes and glanced at Cedric. "Everything. Nothing. I—my whole life. I sit here and I dream about the life I had, before Pettigrew betrayed us, before Lily and James were killed, before this whole mess began. It's nice to remember my life before it all went to shit, y'know?" He chuckled without humour and rested his cheek on his palm, turning to Cedric. "I bet I can guess what you dream of, Diggory."

Cedric narrowed his eyes. "Oh, really? And what do I dream of, Black?" He smirked, copying Sirius' pose.

"You insult my intelligence with your doubts, Diggory. I'm wounded." He clutched his chest and pulled a face, making Cedric laugh. "You dream of…mirrors."

"Mirrors?" Cedric stared at him, smirking slightly. "I dream of mirrors?"

Sirius nodded theatrically, tapping his temple. "Yes, yes, I knew it. You dream of mirrors."

"Why on earth would I dream of mirrors?" Cedric laughed, nudging the older man's shoulder.

Sirius adopted a serious tone. "Because, young Diggory, you do miss seeing your pretty-boy face. You dream of mirrors so you can one day see it again, smiling back at you." He fluttered his eyelashes. "And it's ever so hard to apply your make-up with no mirror."

Cedric guffawed, throwing his head back. Sirius laughed, too, filling the in-between with their mirth. The two stayed that way for a long while, laughing until they had tears in their eyes, streaming down their cheeks, dripping from their chins. They laughed and laughed, until the in-between didn't feel quite so lonely.

"You cheeky bastard," Cedric wheezed, wiping at his eyes. "I do _not _wear make-up."

Sirius snorted, fixing him with a dubious look. "Your lips are far too red to be natural, Diggory." He smiled, pinching Cedric's cheeks.

He swatted his hands away, laughing again. His cheeks were red, from embarrassment as well as Sirius' pinch. "I _do_ _not _wear make-up!"

Sirius nodded, placating. "Of course you don't."

Cedric swatted his shoulder and laughed again. "You haven't changed a bit, Black."

They fell silent, the occasional chuckle the only sound breaking the silence. It stretched across their prison, invading the nooks and crannies once more. Sirius was the one to break it.

"You have."

Cedric looked over at the older man, his brow furrowing. "I have what?"

Sirius glanced at Cedric, smiling slightly. "You've changed."

Cedric looked down at himself, examining. "Not physically, you daft pretty-boy. I mean…you've grown up. You've become a man."

"Well, it's about time, I'm nearly twenty." He said, running a large hand through his hair.

Sirius snorted. "I do hope you're joking, Diggory." At Cedric's look, he nodded. "Good."

They were silent once more, time stretching on indeterminably between them. Cedric looked down at his hands resting on his thighs, and his eyes were drawn to the ring on his finger. It hadn't stopped glowing a faint blue the whole time he had been here, but he had no indication as to why. He wondered if Mya's was doing the same. He wondered if she was okay. He wondered if she wondered. He hoped so.

Closing his eyes, Cedric rested his cheek on his hand and let his mind wander. She's there, smiling her crinkly-nosed smile and reaching for his hand. He takes it, his chest instantly filling with warmth. "I love you darling I have missed you very much since you've been gone won't you stay with me?" she pulls him into her, hugging him tightly don't let go.

"I've missed you too I would love to stay I need to stay hold me closer hold me tighter." He buries his face in her neck, inhaling her scent it makes him smile she smells of home. "Stay please stay I need you here."

Mya nods against his chest, pressing a kiss to his collarbone he's on fire don't let go. "I will love I will do you remember that night by the fire do you?" He feels her eyelashes on his skin, feels her lips move as she speaks. He thinks he might be in heaven.

"Of course I do I couldn't forget that my beautiful girl my Mya." He presses his forehead to her pulse point and breathes evenly they're in sync. He feels warm and safe and at home finally with her.

"Stay the night," she whispers into his skin. He feels the words sink through the skin and settle hotly in his chest igniting him. He raises his head and looks into her eyes her beautiful eyes he's drowning. She stares back eyelashes thick and dark casting shadows across her cheeks. "Stay the night."

She pulls him to her bed and they fall into it, melting together like it was always supposed to be. They're together he's so happy she's so warm against him I've missed you Mya stay. Tangled together he smiles at her she smiles back he thinks he might die he thinks he's finally

"Dreaming of mirrors again?" Sirius' voice jolted Cedric out of his dream, ruining the perfect picture he had formed.

"Bloody—Sirius!" Cedric blushed and scooted back. "No, Sirius, I was not dreaming of mirrors."

Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded. "Right."

Cedric chuckled lightly and shook his head, ignoring the mutterings of the older man. "Prat."

Hermione shot awake, the heavy book falling from her lap and hitting the floor with a resounding thud. The two boys startled, their heads jerking up to look at Hermione. Her pulse was hammering, her heart pounding, her chest warm and full. Her groin was, to her embarrassment, throbbing, and she was shocked to realise she just had a dirty dream about Cedric with her two best friends in the room. Blushing furiously, Hermione reached for the book and buried her nose back in it, avoiding the two boys' questioning looks.

So engrossed in her readings, she failed to notice the ring on her finger glow brighter blue for a moment, before fading back, the inscription blazing against the metal of the ring.

* * *

_hey team. so chapter 11. We're getting there, I promise. __Any questions, holla my way and I'll try to fill you in. Let me know what you think!  
p.s the title is a song by Dark Dark Dark. _

_love 4eva, Jasper. _


	14. Chapter 12

_I'm sorry for the gaps in between updating. Life life life._

_I realised I never said it, so I'll say it now:_

_Thank you, so many times over, for your support during this story's hiatus. Your words made the darkness a little lighter, and I am infinitely grateful. It's been nearly two years since his passing, and I miss him every day, but knowing I had the support of all you readers made it easier. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you._

_And thank you for sticking with this story through the ups and downs and bajillion-year hiatuses. You lot are the very best._

_the title is a song by Eyedea & Abilities._

* * *

Chapter 12  
Blindly Firing.

"You really have to go?"

Remus looked sadly down at her as he answered, his shoulders heavy. "I'm afraid I do. I'm needed by the Order, I've a whole week to catch up on. And of course, my son needs a father." He glanced at Harry as he spoke, a hardened respect in his eyes. Harry nodded back stiffly.

"I just…it was nice having you around," Hermione told him, shrugging and clasping her hands together. "It almost felt like the whole world wasn't on our shoulders."

Ron nudged her side and gave her a grin. "Come on now, Hermione, don't ruin this moment with gloomy statements," he looked to Remus and added, "Besides, we'll see him again soon."

They all knew he was just saying that. They all knew it was more than likely they would die on their journey. They all knew this could very well be the last time they ever spoke. But they didn't say anything. Instead, they smiled and hugged and spoke as if their lives were miles from danger. They knew they were lying.

"Yeah, we'll see you at the Burrow for Christmas," Harry said, holding out his hand for Remus to shake. He took it gratefully, clasping tightly. They knew they were lying.

Remus released Harry's hand and turned to Hermione, placing his large hands on her slight shoulders. She seemed so small, he thought. "And I _will _tell the Order what you told me. If anything can be done to help them, it will be." He held her eyes for a moment longer before straightening his spine and fishing in his cloak pocket for his wand. "Be safe, you three."

Harry nodded and twined his fingers through Hermione's. "You, too," he returned, trying his hardest to keep his upper lip stiff. "Say hello to my godson for me."

"Of course. When you get back, you can tell him yourself." A shaky smile and a few rapid blinks followed his words, and he backed away before saying once more, "Be safe."

"Bye," Hermione whispered. Remus glanced once more over his shoulder before turning on his heel and apparating away.

The three stood in silence in the entranceway for forever, all watching the spot where Remus disappeared. Their one link to the outside world was gone, and the loss was palpable. It ached and throbbed and Hermione wanted nothing more than to chase after him, hug him tight and beg him to let her stay, she was far too young to be feeling so old.

Sirius' old bedroom was empty. Remus had taken Cedric back to his mother and father. Amos had been outraged and had nearly come bursting into Grimmauld place, had Clara and Remus not held him back and talked him down. Hermione felt horrible, but she knew as well as Clara that there was no talking Cedric out of an idea once it entered his mind. He was far too determined for that.

She still dreamed of him. Often, she'd awake with her pulse pounding and her mouth dry, a throbbing in her lower belly and a pink tinge to her cheeks. Other times a bright silhouette of the dais would be burned against her eyelids. A horrible nagging feeling would tug at her stomach and she couldn't help but feel she'd forgotten something extremely important. She had no idea what any of it meant, but she related each instance to Remus so he could have more to go on.

Of course, she left out the details of her dreams with Cedric.

Ron was the first to break the silence. He cleared his throat roughly and clapped his hands together, putting on a bright face and turning to the other two. "Well, I'm going to see if Kreacher won't fix me some of that onion soup…" He rocked back on his heels and nodded slowly. "Yeeup…"

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She knew Ron was just as worried as she and Harry, but he was trying his hardest to appear unaffected. It was very much appreciated and it made her want to hug him for being so utterly Ron.

"Ah, Hermione, what—" he tried, but Hermione shook her head and wrapped her arms tighter around him. She reached back and tugged Harry into the hug, and he awkwardly placed his hands around them.

"I love you two," she told them, her face still pressed comfortingly into Ron's chest. Ron cleared his throat awkwardly and patted her head.

"Uh…right back...er, right back at you," he replied, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Yeah, er…love you, Hermione," Harry said, scratching his nose.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. Her boys were hopeless.

Kreacher was happy enough to make them some soup, and the three ate in relative silence. Occasionally, it would be broken by a comment from Ron or Harry, or a small sigh from Hermione. But for the most part, they sat in silence and thought about all the things they had to do and all the lives depending on their actions. It was a whole lot to think about.

"I think we should go to Godric's Hollow," Harry announced, once Kreacher cleared their bowls and offered tea.

Hermione looked sharply at him. "Harry, I really don't think that's the best course of action. I understand what it means to you, but he knows that, too."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth to retaliate, but Ron spoke up. "Hermione's right, mate. He'd expect you to go there. We've got to think of somewhere else a horcrux could be hidden"

"But there _is _no where else!" Harry bellowed, pounding the table with his fist. "We've exhausted every option. We know _nothing_, not even how to destroy the one lousy horcrux we _do _have! This is useless and Godric's Hollow is the only logical course of action!"

Hermione and Ron looked taken aback by Harry's outburst. Frowning, Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and thought of how to placate him. "Harry," she began, her voice soft but warning. "I understand your desire to visit Godric's Hollow. But we can't risk it."

"She's right. You know she's right," Ron said, looking pointedly at him. Harry's lips thinned and he silently fumed.

"Harry," she tried again. "I'm sorry. But you must remember, you're not the only one at a complete loss of what to do. We're drowning here, too." She reached across the table and gently took his hand. Ron noticed a look of calm wash over his face at the contact. "You're not alone in this."

Harry shut his eyes and squeezed her hand tightly. Taking a calming breath and fixing his glasses, he opened his eyes and nodded sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just…Merlin, it's so frustrating!"

Still with his eyes on their hands, Ron nodded. "I know, mate, but someone's gotta do it, don't you reckon?"

Harry's lips tugged up into a tired smile. "I suppose," he allowed, glancing at Ron.

The trio went their separate ways when night fell absolutely. The moon was shrouded by clouds, trickling disjointedly in through the windows. Hermione stood by her window, a blanket held tightly around her shoulders and her forehead pressed against the cool glass. The moonlight speckled the unkempt lawn, casting eerie shadows and making her think of horror stories from her youth. Her heart ached infinitely when she realised those stories didn't hold a candle to her reality.

She soon found herself lost in thoughts of Cedric. Of his crooked smile, his gentle laugh, the feel of his skin against hers. The taste of his lips, the freckle on his right shoulder, the way her heart raced when he would trace her cheek. She fell into a memory, the summer after he had graduated. She spent a month of it with his family at his home, lounging in the sun and learning to cook with Clara on balmy summer evenings. They would sit outside on the patio and they would laugh and talk and spend hours just living.

She and Cedric had decided it was a lovely day for a swim. They had changed into their swimming clothes and made the short walk to the pond over the hill. The summer sun had beat down hard on their backs, making their vision spotty and warming their already over-heated skin. But Hermione and Cedric hadn't minded; they held hands and he twirled her, his deep laugh making her stomach flip.

They had laid their towels out on the dock and slipped out of their clothes, the sun touching their bare skin. Hermione had felt his eyes on her as she lifted her top over her head, and the thought had made her shiver. His hands on her waist and his lips at her ear, whispering words of adoration and flirtation had made her chest warm. Just as she had turned around to kiss his smiling lips, he had picked her up and tossed her off the dock into the water. She had surfaced spluttering, and he laughed and cajoled and leaned down, offering his hand.

She had frowned and wiped the sopping wet strands from her eyes. Cedric's grey eyes sparkled and danced, and she had found it increasingly difficult to remain cross. So instead, she had accepted his offer for help, but rather than allow him to help her out of the water she had tugged him in with her. He hit the water with a splash and she giggled. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her under with him.

And suddenly she found she could breathe quite comfortably, despite being submerged. She opened her eyes and was met with a smirking Cedric. He had placed a bubble-head charm over them, and appeared quite pleased with himself. Hermione had rolled her eyes and cupped his cheeks, kissing him deeply as they drifted, the whole world silenced, melting away until it was just them. And she couldn't remember ever being so happy.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Harry's frantic voice and hand on her shoulder tore her from her dream. She opened her eyes groggily and was surprised to find herself lying on the floor in her bedroom. Glancing around, she met Harry's wide eyes.

"I'm fine…" she told him. He looked wholly unconvinced.

"What are you doing on the ground, Hermione?" he wanted to know. She did, too.

"I…I have no idea," she admitted, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "I was standing by the window, thinking, and suddenly you're waking me up." She pushed herself up into a sitting position, smiling softly as Harry helped her. "I suppose I was more tired than I thought, huh?"

Harry didn't smile with her. "You shouldn't be alone, not if you're going to be collapsing on a whim." Placing his hands under her arms, Harry picked her up with surprising ease. "You're sleeping in my and Ron's room. Don't argue," he added at the look on her face.

She sighed and relented, allowing Harry to lead her from her room with a hand at the small of her back. The hallways were dark and shadowed, and the creeping darkness made her shiver. Harry noticed and wrapped the blanket tighter around her, pressing his hand more firmly into her back. She leaned back into his touch and sighed at the familiarity.

"Get in," he whispered, holding back the covers of his bed for her. She crawled under and snuggled into his pillow. Harry smiled at the action and climbed in next to her.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered to the darkness. She could just make out his profile.

He turned his face to hers and replied, "Goodnight, Hermione," then he lay and watched her face as she sunk back into sleep, her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed of _him._

"All I'm saying is, we can't just keep sitting here like bumps on a log. We need to do _something_." Harry was pacing the kitchen, trying to convince Ron and Hermione to spring into action.

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "I know you're feeling restless, but we have nothing to go on, Harry," she told him patiently.

He groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair. "But we can't just keep sitting here!"

Ron stood and walked to the counter, grabbing a roll and tearing into it. "I feel as useless as you do, mate. But really, where are we to go? We haven't even destroyed the one horcrux we _do _have."

Harry groaned again. "How could he just leave us in the dark like this?" he wondered, rubbing his tired eyes. "And the stupid gifts he left us; what the bleeding hell? A ruddy old snitch with a cryptic message, a cigarette lighter that _turns off lights_, and a sodding children's book!" Throwing his hands in the air, Harry exhaled heavily and leaned against the counter. Ron offered him some roll.

"They've got to mean _something,_" Hermione said, resting her chin in her hand.

"Yeah, well, so far they're useless," Harry griped. "And I'm sick and tired of feeling so lost."

Hermione knew how he felt. Without Cedric by her side, she didn't really know what to be. He was so fully a part of her. With him gone, she was broken in half and wandering alone. She missed him, deeply and truly.

"I gotta say, I agree with Harry on this one," Ron announced around a mouthful of roll. "We're supposed to be finding horcruxes, so let's go find some."

"We know that two have been destroyed," Harry inserted, pushing off the counter and resuming his pacing. "I destroyed the diary in second year, and Dumbledore did in the ring last summer. So there's only five left."

"And we know that You-Know-Who had a hard-on for Hogwarts…" Ron began, furrowing his brow. "I mean, the locket is supposedly Slytherin's. So it makes sense he'd have tried to get something from every house, right?"

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. That did make sense, which was surprising. "True," she allowed, narrowing her eyes in thought. "So we have Slytherin's, we just need Hufflepuff's, Ravenclaw's, and Gryffindor's." Biting her lip, she looked to Harry. "What did you say Dumbledore showed you?"

Harry shut his eyes and recalled memories. "Hufflepuff…there was a woman…and a house-elf…er…" his brow was furrowed and his nose crinkled. Hermione smiled at the expression. "Oh! A cup!" His eyes shot open in triumph and he nodded. "Hufflepuff was a cup, with a badger on it. Silver."

"And Ravenclaw?" Hermione wondered.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Er…a crown-type thing…" he muttered. "Like a tiara, but Dumbledore called it something different. Started with a 'd'…"

Hermione wrinkled her nose and wracked her brain. Ron looked determined and hungry. Harry's head shot up and he grinned at her. "A diadem!"

Nodding, Hermione said, "Alright. Now we've something to go on. A horcrux from each house."

"Wait a minute," Ron interrupted, a piece of roll falling from his mouth. "What about Gryffindor? Could it be the sword?"

Harry frowned, but Hermione shook her head. "No, remember Harry killed the diary with the sword. It's got to be something else."

"Merlin," he exhaled, running a hand through his red hair. "This is taking some serious thinking."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a look before both breaking into weary smiles at the familiarity of Ron's comment. It took them back to their Hogwarts days, when their biggest worries were Professor Snape and essays on moonstone. Everything had been much simpler then, when their lives were planned for them on timetables made by McGonagall and separated into hour-long chunks. They missed the simplicity.

"So…" Ron popped another piece of roll into his mouth. "Where do you reckon we should start?"

"Well, I think—"

"We're not going to Godric's Hollow, Harry," Hermione intoned, giving him a look. Harry huffed and crossed his arms. She ignored his pout and turned to Ron. "Somewhere Voldemort felt attached to, I expect. Somewhere he felt at home, or safe?"

Ron nodded thoughtfully and was about to suggest something when a loud crack echoed through the house. Hermione shot out of her seat and had her wand pointed to the sound in seconds, her heart pounding in her ears. Harry was at her side in an instant, Ron not far behind. Footsteps could be heard in the entrance way, and the swirling of spelled dust whirled down the hall. The intruders shouted in surprise before a familiar drawling voice said, "It was not I who killed you."

Hermione glanced quickly at Harry with wide eyes. He returned her gaze before shrugging softly and holding his wand tighter. The footsteps got closer and closer to the kitchen. Hermione swallowed thickly and braced herself.

The kitchen door blew open in a hail of splintered wood and red sparks. Harry pushed Hermione behind him and shouted out spells, the light filling the kitchen with colours. Hermione stepped into the fray and fired off spells, grabbing Harry's arm and reaching for Ron while simultaneously keeping the intruders at bay.

A sickening whoosh and suddenly they found themselves in a heap on a forest floor. Harry was the first to stand, breathing hard and frantically searching for answers. Ron rolled over and brushed leaves from his front, shaking his head and looking bewildered. Hermione stay on her back on the ground, looking up at the clouds and tree tops, wishing more than anything Cedric was lying next to her.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry shouted, waving his arms about. "How did they get past the Fidelius charm?"

"This is bad, this is really bad…" Ron ranted, running a hand through his hair.

"Hermione! How did this happen?"

"Shit shit shit, I didn't even grab a change of knickers!"

"What is going on?"

Hermione stayed still and quiet, waiting for her heart to stop aching. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice floating over to the boys and silencing them with its uncertainty. "I don't know."

Harry quietly sat down next to her and copied her pose, crossing his ankles. They stayed that way for a while, silent and thoughtful. Harry reached for her hand and gently ran his thumb over her knuckles.

"I have the bag," she said, looking over at Ron. He looked at her quizzically and she tossed the beaded bag at him. "There's a tent inside, we should set it up before it gets dark out." She pushed herself up, and she felt Harry brush leaves from her back. "I'll set up the protection spells."

They worked in silence, each wondering the same thing. But they had no answers, and all three were sick and tired of questions with no answers, so they remained quiet and brooding. The sun set, dazzling the sky with oranges and reds and purples. The trees darkened the site until all they could make out were vague shapes, and they eventually gave up and retired into the tent. No words were spoken, no muttered greetings or small comments. There was nothing to say.

Harry pulled back his covers once more, and once more she crawled into them. They smelled musty and vaguely of gunpowder. Hermione snorted, a memory of the twins making her smile. "Those two always had something up their sleeves," she muttered, and Harry laughed his agreement.

"When we're done with this, we should all gather up at the Burrow," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "And you, me, and Ron should finally pull one over on those two."

"That," Hermione said, "would be a miracle and a triumph. I fully agree."

Harry laughed again and held up his little finger. "It's a deal," he said, linking their pinkies. "One day, when this is over, we'll prank the ultimate pranksters."

Hermione nodded, meeting his gaze. She didn't bring up the chance of impossibility for this plan. Harry didn't need another promise of death plaguing his mind, and frankly, she was hoping against hope it wouldn't come to that conclusion. Voicing it aloud made it too real. So she nodded and imagined a time in the future where they could all gather happily and eat and laugh and joke and be together.

"Fat chance of that ever happening," Ron added, shaking his head.

Hermione snorted and agreed. "A girl can dream, can't she?"

"Yes, Harry can dream," Ron replied, smirking.

The three fell into another silence, this one falsely light and airy. The imminence of their responsibilities loomed heavily on them. Death Eaters had infiltrated their safe house. Cedric was lying unconscious and grey on a bed a million miles away. A piece of Voldemort's soul was dangling from Harry's neck. And they were living in a tent in a forest tucked away in England's countryside. Hermione sighed and pressed her face into Harry's pillow, trying her hardest to pretend that her life wasn't what it was.

Shutting her eyes, she felt herself be transported back into her vivid dreams of Cedric and a haunted dais. As she drifted off to sleep, her ring glowed a violent blue. The tent filled with light, but no one was awake to see it.

* * *

_again, thanks a fucking heap for sticking with me and this story. You lot have been heaps of help, and inspire me to keep writing (even if it does take months)._

_I'll try to update more regularly, because you all deserve better than I've been giving. _

_This story also doesn't follow DH to the letter (clearly...) so I will be straying from the original to suit my needs. :D_

_let me know you're still around, reading readers and friends._

_looooooove 4eva, Jasper._


	15. Chapter 13

_Friends! Hello!_

_Now I'm a little nervous here, thinking I've maybe lost all my faithful and amazing readers? let me know, please_

* * *

Chapter 13  
Watch The Glow

She lay in bed awake, staring up at the canopy of the old tent. Faint traces of sun could be seen through the material, so she knew the day was starting. The soft breaths of the boy beside her had her longing for the grey eyes and long arms of the boy she missed more than anything, but she knew she couldn't have him. Not anymore.

Sighing, Hermione rolled onto her side and tucked her face into the pillow, trying to keep her tears from falling. The whole world was on the shoulders of three teenagers; she couldn't afford to have a weepy cry-fest because her boyfriend was hurt. There were more pressing matters to attend to, such as the piece of Voldemort's soul currently around the neck of the boy next to her.

If she closed her eyes and listened hard enough, she could hear the soft thump-thump of the locket. It was living, thriving off their grief and frustration, and it made Hermione feel sick to know it was using her pain to flourish. Truly the purest form of evil hung around the necks of her best friends, and she had no way to destroy it.

The only thing keeping her from curling into a ball and sobbing was the thought of Cedric. She would close her eyes and remember the summers they shared, or the late-night visits to the kitchens, or the muggle board games she tried to teach him, and suddenly she'd be warmer. She tried not to think about the ashen-faced boy in the upstairs bedroom with the wet eyes. Those made her heart throb painfully.

Her right ring finger twitched and she glanced down, once again startled and curious to see her ring was glowing a gentle blue. She had first noticed it a few days after they began travelling the English countryside. Sitting watch outside the tent, Hermione had been unable to keep her eyes open as dusk turned to night, and her head had drooped against her chest. Dreams of him filled her vision, and a sudden hand on her shoulder had interrupted a particularly enjoyable one.

Jerking her head up violently, Hermione had had the curse on the tip of her tongue before she realised it was Ron. His eyes were wide, and Hermione thought they looked especially blue in this light. In fact, his whole face looked rather blue. Furrowing her brow, Hermione followed his dumbfounded gaze until she noticed the bright light emanating from her ring.

She had gasped and held the finger up to her face. The bright light had made her squint, and through her lashes she could make out a burning inscription. Twisting ancient letters twirled and flashed, and she had barely been able to make out a few letters before it suddenly burned out.

The ring and it's unexplained light had been on her mind for days now. She could think of no explanation, except for maybe (in some foolish romantic hopeful way) Cedric was trying to get to her, like when he arrived at Grimmauld Place. Or maybe it meant he was still alive, and the ring was just informing her of this fact. She personally liked the first reasoning better, but she kept it to herself.

Sighing again, Hermione propped herself on her elbow and smacked her pillow, trying to make it more comfortable. She lay her head back down and groaned at the lumps. Harry stirred beside her and she rolled onto her back, waiting for the inevitable.

He stretched out, his toes tickling hers and his arms brushing against her side. Yawning hugely and rubbing his eyes, Harry turned to her and gave her a sleepy grin.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked. She rolled her eyes and swatted his messy hair.

"Believe me, it wasn't my first choice."

Harry smiled, though she thought it looked a little off. Stretching out again, he rolled and sat up, placing his feet gingerly on the cold ground.

"Well, another day looms," he announced, grabbing his glasses and standing. "Where to today, hmm? Perhaps a nice swamp?"

Hermione rested back on her elbows and gave him a look. "You certainly have a way of making a dreary situation seem even bleaker," she informed him. Shrugging apologetically, Harry busied himself with making tea. Ron still slept soundly across from them.

"I was thinking…" Harry began as the water started boiling.

Hermione raised her eyebrows as her head popped out of her jumper. "About?" she asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Well, I was just thinking about how likely it seems that a horcrux would be at Godric's Hollow," he told her, glancing over his shoulder to gage her reaction.

Sighing softly, Hermione tried to keep her eye-roll in check. They'd been over this countless times, and each time Ron and Hermione had out-numbered Harry on the issue. But he still continued to press it, to Hermione's frustration. "We've already talked about this, Harry," she said, the irritation becoming present in her tone, "it's far too dangerous. You-Know-Who would expect you to go there. There's got to be another place."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Ron's voice interrupted him. "I was thinking about that," he said, scratching at his growing facial hair. "I was thinking maybe that old orphanage he grew up at could be a good place to check?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise. Ron gave her a self-deprecating smile and said, "I know, shocking hey?"

"No, no, that's not…I'm just surprised we hadn't thought of that sooner," she stuttered. He shook his head and turned to Harry.

"What do you think, mate? Seem like it's worth a try?"

Harry looked torn. She knew how badly he wanted to see Godric's Hollow, but she knew that he knew how dangerous and foolhardy that could be. Finally, Harry relented, his shoulders dropping slightly.

"It could be. We could go after breakfast."

'Breakfast' was lumpy oatmeal and weak tea. They packed up the camp and Hermione gave it one last sweep before linking fingers with Harry and waiting for Ron to grab her shoulder. The familiar suffocation enveloped her and her eyes watered. Landing with a thud, Hermione's knees buckled and she braced herself against Harry's side.

"You all right?" he asked her quietly. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and she felt unfamiliar shivers run down her spine.

"Yes, fine," she muttered, turning away and beginning their enchantments. "So we need a disguise if we're to go into town undetected," she waved her wand carefully and a gentle throb of magic expelled, surrounding them. "Perhaps polyjuice potion would do?"

Ron grunted his agreement and Harry met her eyes with a nod. With that sorted, Hermione set about setting up their camp, taking care to avoid all irrational trains of thought.

Cedric was quite bored. This grey in-between was plain and empty, and he was thoroughly and completely _bored. _The only things occupying his mind worth thinking about were Mya and her smile, and the curious glow of his ring. He and Sirius had noticed it after Sirius had shaken him from a daydream, and now the glow was plaguing his mind.

Sirius lay sprawled across the stone steps, twirling a strand of hair around his finger and staring up at the ceiling. With a great sigh, he pushed himself into a sitting position and fixed Cedric with a look.

"You really have _no _idea?" he asked exasperatedly. Cedric groaned and rubbed his face.

"I honestly have no bloody clue, Sirius. The only things I know about these rings are they saved my life, and now they've saved Hermione's. Other than that, I'm lost."

Sirius pursed his lips and squinted down at the ring resting comfortably on Cedric's right index finger. "Nothing else?"

Cedric tilted his head in thought. "Well," he began, "it _did _take me to her, when I lost her during the wedding. But…"

Sitting up straighter, Sirius fixed him with a look. "And you hadn't mentioned this beforehand why?" He reached out and grabbed Cedric's hand, looking closer. "That's very port-keyish, there, Diggory."

"I'm not saying it wasn't strange, but I am saying it hasn't happened before or since," Cedric said, tugging his hand back. Sirius sighed and leaned back on his elbows.

"Those rings are something else, I reckon," he muttered, blowing his fringe from his eyes.

"You're not kidding," Cedric agreed, copying his pose. His mother had done a really rubbish job explaining them, he thought. If Hermione were here, she'd be able to tell him everything he'd ever need to know. He wondered where she was. He wondered if she wondered.

He hoped she did.

The polyjuice potion was foul. Hermione shuddered at the taste and her face twisted into a grimace as it dripped down her throat. Harry and Ron held similar expressions, and in any other situation it might be funny. It wasn't.

"Alright, let's get on, then," she muttered, rearranging her clothes. Harry took off his glasses and placed her hand in the crook of her arm, Ron walking along beside them.

The orphanage was a dark place. Looking decrepit and sad, the old stone building loomed forlornly. Hermione shuddered at the thought of growing up at a place so void of love. It would be terribly cold, she imagined.

But thoughts like that just made her miss her parents more than ever, so she pushed them aside and trudged on. Harry gave her a questioning look at her newfound vigor. She ignored him.

Search and search as they might, the three were unable to find anything even remotely resembling a horcrux. Harry had stressed the fact that a horcrux wouldn't be some grotty old boot; it had to be something of great importance to either the magical world or Voldemort himself. Still, nothing as such was found.

Ron kicked out at a corner of the old building as they were leaving. "I hate this," he muttered with a scowl. His eyes were dark and broody, and there were bags under his eyes. Hermione noted with a start his polyjuice potion was fast wearing off.

"Come on, we best hurry back," she urged, tugging his arm. Ron jerked it back and fixed her with a glare.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own, Hermione," he snapped. The locket swung out from beneath his shirt and Hermione sighed.

Back at the camp, the mood was dark. Ron had the horcrux around his neck still, and he sat morosely in his bed, glaring at the ceiling. Hermione and Harry sat at the table, wracking their tired brains for any more ideas.

"What about at Borgin and Burkes?" She suggested desperately, "He did work there, right?"

Harry shook his head, "Only because Dumbledore refused him the teaching post," he reminded her with a gentle smile.

"Bloody hell," Hermione groaned, thudding her head against the table. Harry chuckled and she raised her head. "Something you find amusing, Potter?"

His eyes were brighter than they had been. "For someone so remarkably brilliant, that was a stupid thing to do," he noted, smirking.

Hermione scowled and swatted his arm. "Don't make fun of me, I'm tired," she whined, pouting. Harry smiled wider and tweaked her nose.

"Aw, poor little Hermione is tired?" he cooed in a baby voice. Hermione didn't appreciate this, which she demonstrated with a pointed tongue. "Mature," he remarked, raising a brow.

She made a face, twisting her tongue and crossing her eyes. Harry laughed and she grinned back. She had missed his laugh.

"This is cozy, huh?" Ron said, standing with his arms crossed behind them. Harry and Hermione both turned to see a very unhappy look marring Ron's features.

Hermione furrowed her brows and said, "Not particularly, no. We're traveling the countryside in a ruddy tent, Ron."

Ron's scowl grew and Hermione sighed. "You should be ashamed of yourself," he told her, his eyes dark. Perplexed, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry beat her to it.

"I think you should be the one ashamed of themselves, Ron," he said lowly, warningly. "It's not Hermione's fault we're cold and hungry, but she's not taking it out on her friends. Unlike you."

Ron turned to Harry, his expression growing impressively darker. "You're certainly not one to talk. Have you even _considered _Ginny in all of this?"

Harry's eyes widened at the turn of topic. He glanced at Hermione and she shrugged, just as lost. "What are you talking about, Ron?" he asked, rubbing his eyebrow.

Ron scoffed and started pacing in front of them, seemingly unable to keep still. "Right, now you're going to act all innocent and naïve, as if you haven't been sharing a bed for the past three weeks," he growled, shooting angry glares at the pair of them.

"Ron, it's nothing like that," Hermione assured, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. Again, he jerked it back, whirling to face her.

"'Nothing like that?' Don't be daft, Hermione, it's _exactly _like that! I hear you! Whispering and muttering and…and _moaning,_" he exploded, his ears going red.

Hermione floundered, completely at a loss. What Ron was hearing was completely beyond her, but he seemed genuinely infuriated. "Ron, I really don't—"

But he was having none of it. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses, Hermione. Or yours, Harry!" he added as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "I'm appalled that you two would do this to the people you claim to love, especially you, Hermione! He gave up his _life _for you, and you're in bed with another bloke!"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Ron!" Hermione burst, throwing her hands up. "You're being utterly ridiculous, you do know that, right?"

Ron just glared, his ears now crimson. Harry stepped in, standing toe to toe with Ron. "You're talking absolute rubbish, Ron, and you know it. Now take that bloody thing off and relax, okay?"

Grudgingly reaching up and pulling the necklace off, Ron sent one last glare at Hermione before throwing the locket on the table and stalking off. Hermione and Harry stood in silence, awkward and confused.

"What do you think he was talking about?" she whispered to Harry.

Harry shrugged slowly, turning to face her. "I don't know," he replied quietly, "But I'm a bit worried at the fact he's hearing _whispering _when we're fast asleep."

Hermione had to agree with Harry. That was certainly worrisome behaviour, and she just hoped it wouldn't take away from the focus of their hunt. She had given up too much for this to come to a crashing halt.

Sleep was fitful for Hermione. Once again, her dreams were plagued with ancient veils and grey eyes, but this time there was something different. Something familiar, in an old memory sort of way. The eyes were grey and crinkled at the corners, like Cedric's, but unlike Cedric's they held a certain haunted quality. And the lashes weren't absurdly thick, and the gaze didn't make her heart thump heavily.

Flashes of red and suddenly words were emblazoned across her eyelids. In her dream state, her mind processed them slowly, working over each word and filing it away, burning it into the twists and turns of her mind.

_Perdita sit, si quis novit ubi aspectu._

Cedric's eyelids drooped suddenly, in mid-conversation. He leaned back against the wall and breathed evenly as a barrage of images assaulted his mind. A twisted tree, a broken fence, a lonely old woman, great yellow eyes, rickety stairs, a flash of flame, crimson rivers, shattering glass, and snow, covering the ground efficiently. And her. His lips curved into an unconscious smile as he focused on the wide and anxious eyes of his darling Mya, despite the lunging fangs reflected back in her irises. He was only interested in her.

Which, in hindsight, is a shame. If he had paid attention, he could've taken note of the glowing of her ring, and the subsequent burning of his, along with a familiar clenching in his chest.

What a shame, indeed.

* * *

_I like to think that a month between updates is a great improvement! This story is going to get moving now. Hold on tight?_

_The title is a song by Museum Of Bellas Artes. _

_If you've any questions/comments/rants, I'd love to hear. I missed everyone very much, and I think I've fallen in love with all of you._

_-Jaspah!_


	16. Chapter 14

_I'm moving back to school so internet won't be hooked up for a while. Enjoy the fourteenth chapter of this good funtimes story full of love and confusion._

_Any questions, holler?_

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Chapter 14  
If You Let It.

Hermione awoke with a start, jerking out of bed in a tangle of sheets and curly hair. Harry groaned at the sudden chill but Hermione paid him no mind. Heart pounding and pulse thrumming rapidly in her ears, she quickly raced to the table and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, scribbling down the strange words as fast as she could before they disappeared back into the recesses of her mind.

"Hermione, what...what are you doing?" Harry asked groggily from his place on the bed. He had summoned the blankets back and was currently snuggling under them again.

Hermione spared him a quick glance before shaking her head and reaching for her beaded bag. She knew she had some research books in here somewhere, and maybe her Ancient Runes text would come in handy. The contents of the bag clashed and jangled as she dug through furiously, finally feeling the familiar spine of a thick book beneath her fingers.

All the commotion had woken Ron, who sat blearily in his bed. He watched Hermione rummage and sigh and scribble, scratching his eyebrow in thought. The horcrux was now safely around Harry's neck, and Ron was feeling infinitely better, if not a little embarrassed at his outburst.

"Something on your mind?" he asked quietly from his bed. Hermione stopped her movements and glanced at Ron, her eyes apprehensive. Ron sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair, "I'm sorry. I…I was out of line, and I'm sorry."

Hermione watched him carefully before shrugging, "That's okay." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and continued flipping madly through a deep red book.

Ron sighed and turned to Harry, who just gave him a shrug and a half-smile. "Don't worry about it," he assured Ron lowly. Louder, "Hermione, what exactly are you doing?"

Huffing, Hermione turned to the boys and gestured to her notes, "I had another dream. This one seemed—it seemed important, so I'm writing it all down. And there are these words…" she trailed off and bit her lip, staring down at the hastily scribbled words in a language Hermione didn't understand.

Harry padded over and rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at her notes. "Hmm," he hummed, and Hermione could feel it against her collarbone. "What is that? Latin?"

Furrowing her brow, Hermione looked closer and cocked her head. "Why…yes! Harry, you're a genius!" She hugged him tightly and picked up a different book, a light blue one with yellowing pages. "This changes everything. Here I was thinking it was something much more complex, like Ancient Sumerian or Ancient Arabic." She continued to mumble to herself as Harry and Ron looked on, reminiscent smiles tugging at their lips.

The sun had risen hours ago, beating down on the tent. It snuck through cracks in the fabric and warmed bits of carpet. Ron was currently lying in one such spot, his eyes closed and the sun warming his face. Harry was next to him, the horcrux thrumming evilly against his chest. Hermione was still at the table, scribbling furiously and mumbling to herself every so often.

"Hey, Harry," Ron started, turning his head to see the scruffy boy. He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and Ron continued, "You know how you were saying we should go to Godric's Hollow? Well, I was thinking more or less the same." At Harry's incredulous look, Ron smirked. "I mean, we've looked everywhere. We went to that ruddy orphanage, we've gone to every important historical magic site, and we've even gone to stupid muggle towns. Why wouldn't a horcrux be in the place where You-Know-Who lost everything?"

Harry nodded vigorously, "I know! Exactly! That's what I've been bloody saying the whole bloody time!" Sitting up, he turned to Hermione and shouted, "Hermione! We're going to Godric's Hollow!"

She looked up dazedly from her notes, "What?"

Harry repeated himself, standing and walking over to her. She looked puzzled and a little put-off. "Why on earth…? Harry, I thought we agreed it was _too dangerous_," she reminded him. Harry sighed and smoothed out the wrinkle between her brows.

"Yes, I know, but Hermione, where _else _could it be? We've looked everywhere, and Ron agrees. We owe it to ourselves—and the entire wizarding world—to check every possible angle, don't you reckon?" he finished, dropping his hand and tucking them both into his trouser pockets.

Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron, and the fight sagged out of her. They both looked so determined, so much more alive than they had in weeks. She couldn't deny that kind of light. "Fine," she muttered, despite an uncomfortable twisting in her belly. "We'll go to Godric's Hollow tonight."

The words proved difficult to decipher. Latin wasn't as straightforward as Hermione would like, and all those verb tenses were messing with her already tired mind. She thought she had gotten at least part of it, although the message seemed vague and mysterious: _'If one knows where the appearance of.'_

That certainly didn't seem right, but Hermione had yet to be deterred. While Ron and Harry planned their trip to Godric's Hollow, Hermione slaved over the translation.

The sun was gone, and the chill of the night crept into the tent. Hermione was asleep on top of her books, the pages sticking to her cheek. Ron and Harry had gone over and over their plan to enter Godric's Hollow without being detected and were just about ready. While Ron packed up Hermione's bag and began work on the tent, Harry nudged her awake.

"Wake up, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. His soft breath tickled the shell and she groaned in her sleep.

"Go 'way, Ced," she grumbled into the pages. Harry shook his head and tried again.

"Hermione, it's me. Get up, you're going to be late for your N.E.."

At that, she shot up so quickly Harry had to dodge out of the way to avoid a broken nose.

A puzzled look washed over her features as she took in her surroundings. "I—there are no N.E. today," she announced, meeting Harry's laughing eyes.

"I had to wake you up somehow," he shrugged, brushing her wild hair out of her eyes. "It worked, didn't it?"

Hermione nodded before glancing back down at her notes. The words had shone brightly in her dream again, and she was pretty sure she had the translation now. "Of course," she breathed as, in her mind, the words slowly refigured themselves until they formed a sentence clear as day. "Of _course!_"

Harry stared at her, quite confused. "Of course what, Hermione?" She ignored him and he shook his head. "Either way, we're ready to head out to Godric's Hollow. Come on," he tugged gently on her hand but she ignored him again.

Reaching for her abandoned quill, Hermione quickly scribbled out the words and smiled in triumph. "I've got it!" she announced, meeting Harry's eyes. "The translation; I was using the wrong verb. It's _'The lost can be found, if one knows where to look!'_ Don't you see? It's referring to Cedric! And subsequently, Sirius!"

Ron came over and placed the beaded bag down on her notes. "Brilliant. Let's go."

Hermione was a little chuffed they weren't as excited as she was, but wasn't that how it always was? Harry and Ron were more about action, whereas Hermione was the thinker. This would, ultimately, lead them directly into danger, as it had time and time again.

"Cedric, you bloody fool! Where did you disappear off to that time?"

Cedric slowly opened his eyes, less than happy to be pulled from his dreams of Mya. Granted, this particular dream wasn't as enjoyable as the others had been, but still. It was a chance to see her again, and he missed her more than he thought possible.

"I saw her again," he answered dreamily, blinking slowly. The grey in-between slowly began to take shape and he groaned. "Damnit, I hate it here!"

Sirius sat next to Cedric and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What did you see?" he wanted to know. His grey eyes were curious and burning.

Sighing, Cedric leaned his forehead against his palm. "I dunno," he said, rubbing his eye. "Er…I saw…an old house. It looked run-down, decrepit. And…" he wracked his memory, trying to find anything other than Hermione's face. It was difficult. "Oh! I saw a woman! She was very old—she kind of looked like she was supposed to be dead, but something got in the way…" the thought made his skin crawl. "And…I saw a—a snake? No, that can't be…" but it was, and Cedric knew it was.

He could now see the things he missed when he was so focused on her face. He saw a snake bursting forth from the old woman, tearing from her neck and lunging. He saw Hermione raise her wand and send a stream of fire at the snake, but she was too slow and it attached itself to a man with shaggy brown hair's arm. Blood flowed viciously. He saw the big window behind the three explode, and he saw them leap out, he saw them twist, he saw the streak of red splatter against the wall as they disappeared. He saw the snake howl and twist, and he saw a black-robed figure appear where the three had just been, moments before.

Somehow, she always managed to get into unimaginable danger. And Cedric hated that he wasn't there to help her, to pull her out of it. So caught up in his anger and distress was Cedric that he didn't even notice the familiar tugging and squeezing, nor did he see the bright blazing blue of his ring.

Sirius did, and Sirius was flabbergasted, because right before his very eyes, Cedric was fading, flickering light a waning light bulb.

"Ugh, this bloke tastes _terrible!" _Ron moaned again, scrunching up his face in disgust. He had taken poly juice potion long before, when they arrived in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, but the taste still hadn't left his tongue. The man he drank was shorter than he, with shaggy brown hair and a permanent scowl. A scar across his eyebrow made him look arrogant and intimidating.

Hermione ignored Ron's complaints and made sure the Cloak was still covering her and Harry. They were following a peculiar old woman who smelled like death and walked like it physically pained her greatly to do so. An uneasy feeling tugged at her belly, but Hermione didn't know what to do. So she tightened her hold on Harry's familiar hand and continued on.

The house they entered was old and falling apart. A twisted tree stood out front, its branches looking like broken fingers. The fence surrounding the property was rickety and in desperate need for repair, but the woman looked in no way capable of fixing anything.

A horrible smell wafted out to greet them as soon as the door opened. Hermione gagged and plugged her nose, Harry doing the same. Ron coughed roughly and covered his mouth.

The old woman gestured them over to an old table, littered with pictures. Hermione was curious, but the lighting in the house was less than stellar. Without missing a beat, the old woman turned and stared at the spot where Harry would be. Her milky eyes seemed curiously empty, yet bright with knowledge.

Harry looked perplexed. "I—can she see me?" he whispered. Hermione didn't answer, because the old woman beckoned with a crooked finger at Harry. He shrugged and carefully removed the cloak, leaving Hermione covered.

A small twist of the lips was the only reaction the old woman gave to Harry Potter's sudden appearance. The uneasy feeling in Hermione's belly grew. The old woman gestured upstairs, and Harry followed slowly. Ron shared an anxious look with Hermione, shuffling his feet and staring helplessly after the retreating pair.

"This is mental," he whispered to her. Hermione couldn't help but agree.

"We should follow," she replied, gesturing upstairs much like the old woman had done. Ron nodded and led the way, creeping carefully up the steps.

Harry stood with his back to the woman, his eyes locked on something in the corner of the room. Hermione and Ron hurried into the room, and the old woman noticed the intrusion. She turned to them and her neck twitched horribly. Harry turned and raised his wand, but suddenly the old woman's neck twitched again and began to split. Hermione felt her ring warm, and a strange tug was felt in her chest. A moment later, a huge snake was lunging at the trio, its dangerous fangs glinting wolfishly in the candlelight.

Hermione shot off a jet of fire, but the snake had already launched itself at them. Its fangs dug into Ron's arm and he shouted out, stumbling back. Harry steadied him and shot a spell at the snake, but he missed. Hermione let loose a stream of fire, the bright orange mixing with the sudden glow of her ring. The snake reared back, its fangs dripping with Ron's blood, and before he could recover Hermione had grabbed his arm and leapt back, spinning sickeningly and disappearing in a swirl of robes and shattered glass.

The blinding glow of her ring filled her vision as she slammed heavily against the ground. Ron groaned in pain and collapsed into the leaf-covered ground, clutching his arm. Harry looked frantic.

"I _knew _it was a bad idea, going there!" she cried, searching desperately for the dittany in her beaded bag.

Harry shot her a look and replied darkly, "Now _really _isn't the time for an 'I told you so,' Hermione."

Ron looked grey and sickly. His arm was gushing blood, the four holes looking vicious and lethal. Her ring continued to glow, and Hermione tried to ignore the incessant tugging in her chest.

"Cedric!" Sirius rushed forward, reaching for the flickering boy. His hand briefly made contact before sinking through.

"Wh—what's going on, Sirius?" he asked shakily, staring at his fading hands. Sirius shook his head and met Cedric's eyes.

"I haven't a bloody clue. Stay with me, Ced, okay?"

Cedric nodded, "I'm…okay, okay, I think it's ending." And it was. Suddenly, he was solid again, no longer flickering perilously in this land of in-between. It was a strange mixture of relief and sorrow he felt.

"What the bloody fuck," he whispered, his grey eyes wide with the unknown.

Sirius held his shoulders tightly, staring awestruck at the still faintly-glowing ring on his finger. "That about sums it up," he agreed with a shake of his shaggy head.

* * *

_the title of this chapter is a lyric from Arcade Fire's "Crown Of Love."_

_love me love me love me._

_I love you. Very much._

_Love Jasper 4 ever._


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